I Know What Happened to You last Night
by RRatedauthor
Summary: One night will change the lives of several WWE superstars... rated M for scenes of intense sexuality and violence. The third in the Jeff/Eric series!
1. The Proposition

All characters copyright WWE, TNA, the twisted mind of the author, whatever!!!

For those of you that wanted a sequel, here it is, but with a little twist!

The Proposition...

Randy Orton was running. From whom, he didn't know and at that moment it didn't matter. He was having a hard enough time figuring out how he got into this predicament. All he could remember was having a good time at a club with some of his buddies, and there was something about a girl, and now he was being chased by several strange men down the street.

He turned a corner, and started running again. He pulled up short when he realized that he was in a dead end alley...

"Oh, fuck..." He grabbed for his pockets, trying to find his phone. It must've fallen out during the chase.

"We got him now."

Randy's only hope was to climb the chain-link fence. He hoped that he had enough of a lead to get over.

"Get him."

In what seemed like seconds, two of the larger men had effortlessly peeled him off the fence and he was thrown to the ground.

"This is what happens when you mess with my girl. Get him, boys."

Randy was hit with several punches, kicks, and then the real beating began. His clothes were torn from his body by the men, laughing all the time.

"We'll have some real fun now... hold him."

Pressed against the fence, Randy felt the links bite into his flesh, bringing more pain. He moaned.

"You think that hurts, boy? You ain't seen nothing yet."

"You can't do this to me... I'm Randy Orton..." Even with the pain coursing through his body, his arrogance came through.

"So? Even a pretty boy like you should know that when a lady says she has a boyfriend, you should back off... especially when her boyfriend is me!" This brought peals of laughter from his friends. "Now hold still and this'll be over soon. Struggle and I'll break you!"

Randy felt something long and hard press against him. "Oh, God," he thought "no!"

"Start the countdown!"

His buddies began the chant... "ten... nine... eight..." With each number, Randy was penetrated by what he knew was the lead man's dick. Each thrust brought pain and he would've collapsed if he hadn't been held in place.

At "zero", his attacker thrust harder than the previous ones and Randy felt something wet trickle down his thigh... what it was, he didn't want to know.

"My turn." His attacker stepped aside and another long hard, object entered him. This went on for how long? Minutes, hours, days??? After the third or fourth attack, Randy was barely aware of where he was and what was going on.

"HEY!" Someone shouted

"Book!" He faintly heard and suddenly, the hands that were holding him up freed him. Randy collapsed, first against the fence, then down to the ground, landing on some cardboard boxes.

"What the hell?" He recognized the voice... or did he? Who knew... he finally blacked out.

"Why did you drag me to that club?" Eric demanded "You know I don't like that kind of crap..."

"The guys were in town and they invited me along. I guessed maybe you'd want to chill out." Jeff replied

"Yeah... it was kinda funny watching Randy make a fool of himself with that girl."

Jeff laughed. "It was... I don't think that 'I'm Randy Orton' line has ever worked."

Eric smirked. "Isn't he married?"

"Never hurts to look, am I right?" Jeff replied

"That depends what you're looking at." Eric answered, trying to look stern, but ended up chuckling. "Let's get our asses home before we end up in the drunk tank."

"Sure 'dat." Jeff like putting on the drawl when drunk, but he sounded more like a punk than a Southerner.

As Jeff and Eric passed an alley, they both stopped to light their cigarettes.

"I really should quit." Eric grimaced at the first taste.

"The day you quit smoking is the day you give up sex." Jeff felt in his pockets for his lighter. "Can I?"

Eric leaned over to cup his smoke for him. In the light of the flame he saw a piece of the scene in the alley. At this time of night, it was not uncommon for cases of "jailhouse romance" to occur... Y'know, people had to much to drink, and too much testosterone in their system and what would usually happen is a group would go on the prowl for satisfaction. The only thing that caught Eric's attention was the body art of the one man... there was only one person he knew with tattoos like that.

"HEY!" Eric took off

"Eric... what!" Jeff feared for his husband's safety. While Jeff was more of a risk-taker in the ring, Eric was the impetuous one outside.

"Eric...!" Jeff followed him into the alley. "What are you doing?"

"Come back here, you sons of bitches!" Eric yelled, shaking the fence in anger. The attackers had just managed to elude him.

"What's gotten into you, dude?" Jeff pulled him from the fence. He had not seen what Eric had and thought that he was playing hero again.

"It's Randy."

"What?" Jeff finally saw what Eric had. "Oh my God..."

"Call an ambulance." Eric said

"No..." Randy groaned

"Don't worry, man, we're gonna get you some help..."

"No..." Randy repeated "Don't... want... people... to know."

"Jeff, run home and get Randy something to wear." Eric demanded

"But shouldn't we...?"

"Jeff, please." Eric interrupted "We're taking him with us. Unless you want him walking the streets naked."

The young man nodded.

"Don't leave me...." Randy pleaded

"Don't worry. I ain't goin' nowhere." Eric sat down on a nearby crate where he could keep an eye on both Randy and also watch the alley for any sign of Jeff.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call someone? Your wife, maybe?"

Randy didn't answer. How could he? And even if he did want Eric to call his wife, what would he say... "Hi, honey... I won't be home tonight... I tried to hit on a girl and ended up getting gang-raped by her friends"?

"Okay... we'll just wait here." Eric lit another cigarette, trying to clear his head. He was by no means sober, but he still couldn't believe what had just happened.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. At fifteen, Eric was starting to get nervous.

"What's taking Jeff so long?" He started pacing, hoping that Jeff hadn't run into the same group. At twenty minutes, Eric was worried.

"Randy, if I don't hear from Jeff in five minutes, I'm getting you to a hospital, okay?"

There was no response.

"Randy... Randy... you still with me?" Alarmed, Eric felt for a pulse... weak but steady.

"Anybody in there?" Eric saw two figures at the entrance of the alley. Silhouetted by the streetlights, he couldn't make out who they were. Instinctively, he grabbed the nearest thing he could use as a weapon: a piece of lead pipe.

"Who is it?"

"It's just me..." Jeff stepped into view. "I brought Adam."

"I thought were going to keep this quiet." Eric growled

"I couldn't help it. He was outside the club when I ran past. I'd still be on my way home if he hadn't offered to give me a ride."

"I guess that's a good thing."

"What happened... oh my fuckin' God... Randy!!!!!!!!" Jeff hadn't told Adam the whole story apparently.

"I guess he made some enemies tonight." Eric knew that wasn't the best thing to say, but his sarcastic side manifested itself when he was most stressed.

"Who did this?" Adam shouted "I'll tear them new ones!"

"I don't know." Eric replied "If I hadn't needed a smoke, we probably wouldn't have seen anything."

"Why didn't you do something?" Adam yelled

"Me? Why didn't you?" Eric yelled in return. "You were there the whole night... you saw what he was doing... hell, whatever happened to team RKO, huh?"

"Guys... stop it... let's get Randy dressed and out of here and then we can fight over who shoulda done what, okay?"

Eric and Adam stopped yelling and both looked at Jeff.

"Yeah... sorry, Eric..."

"No offense taken, bro. We're all a little shaken up."

Somehow, they got Randy dressed in a pair of Jeff's baggy jeans, a Team Extreme T-shirt and Adam's black trenchcoat, and walked him to Adam's car.

"Where we going?" Adam asked "The hosp..."

"No!" Eric and Jeff shouted together.

"No thanks, Adam... Just take us back to our place." Jeff calmly added

"Look man, I know how worried you are, but can you let Jeff and I handle this? We're already in deep and I don't want you to get in any trouble. I know how close you and Randy were... I mean, are. I promise we'll keep you up to speed." Eric said "Okay?"

It was hard for Adam to agree, but he could see Eric's point. If the guys who did this to Randy were to come back for revenge, it might be better to not get involved.

"You promise?"

"If you want to stop by tomorrow, I'm sure Randy would welcome the company." Eric patted Adam on the back. "Just keep it quiet. Don't tell anyone."

"Not even Vince?"

"Especially Vince. Once he hears, the entire world will know and that's the last thing any of us needs right now. If he ever asks, tell him you haven't seen Randy since the club." Eric looked to Jeff, who also nodded.

"We'll talk to you tomorrow." Jeff said. Eric had already taken a semi-coherent Randy inside.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do?" Adam seemed eager to help, though there was little he could do.

"Maybe drive back and see if there's anything we missed." Jeff suggested. "If the police haven't shown up already."

"Got it."

"I could use a little help in here." Jeff heard Eric shout from inside the house.

"Talk to you later, Adam." Jeff slammed the door, leaving a confused and hurt Edge on the steps.

"I'll show them." He growled, slamming his car into reverse and driving off, tires squealing.

"I don't think he liked getting cut off." Jeff muttered

"I didn't like him getting involved to begin with." Eric retorted

"Sorry, babe, I had to... now what did you need my help with?"

"Grab the first-aid kit for me. Since Randy refuses to go to the hospital, I figure we should get him cleaned up. Thankfully, most of his injuries seem to be superficial." Eric locked eyes with Jeff before flicking his head toward the once-more unconscious man's lower area.

"But how do we...?" Jeff asked

"I've got an idea... grab the kit and I'll meet you in the bathroom... Randy... RANDY!!!! Can you hear me?"

Randy groaned, opening his eyes. "Wha....?"

"You were in a fight." Eric answered "We found you and brought you here."

"Here...? Where... here?"

"You're with me and Jeff. At our house." Eric felt like he was trying to explain something to a very expensive, but stupid dog. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from losing his cool.

"Can you stand up on your own?"

Randy let go of Eric and wobbled unsteadily for several minutes before his legs gave out and he fell back into Eric's arms. He looked at Eric, ashamed.

"I guess not. I'm going to take you into the bathroom and get you cleaned up, ok?"

Randy nodded, his eyes starting to cloud over again.

"Don't black out on me. I'm not gonna drag your sorry behind all the way."

"Mmm..."

"Stay with me, Orton." Eric slapped him lightly. "You gotta help too."

Somehow, Eric managed to get Randy into the bathroom before he collapsed again.

"Fuck." Eric groaned

"Maybe later." Jeff giggled

"You know first aid?" Eric ignored the attempt to be funny.

"A little." Jeff replied, squeezing between Randy and the bathtub.

"That's more than I know. You're in charge."

"Cool. Get me a wet cloth."

Eric snickered. "Yes ma'am." He snapped a salute and did as instructed.

Jeff carefully wiped the blood from Randy's face and neck.

"Doesn't look too bad. I guess that's a good thing." Eric alternated ringing out bloody rags and giving Jeff clean ones.

"For now." Jeff sighed. Eric knew what that meant.

"Should we even...?" he asked

"He refuses to go to the hospital and I doubt that he'd allow one of the WWE trainers to look at him." Jeff answered

"Better tell him what's gonna happen. I don't want him to freak on us." Eric said

"Good idea... Randy... Randy... Legend Killer, are you still with us?"

"I guess that's a yes." Only thing from Randy was a weak groan.

"Okay, Randy, if you can hear me, this is the story... you got beat up, do you remember that?"

"Unhhhh........."

"You're covered in blood right now, so what we'd like to do is get you cleaned up, okay. But to do that, we're gonna have to undress you. Just don't panic. Eric and I are not gonna hurt you."

Randy whispered something unintelligible.

"What?" Jeff leaned close to Randy. "Can you say that again?"

Randy mumbled again. Jeff laughed. "No, Randy, we're not gonna steal your wallet."

"Help me, E."

"I'll hold: you strip." Eric lifted Randy up enough so Jeff could remove the blood-crusted clothing.

"Is this your fantasy or mine?" Jeff removed the last of Randy's, formerly Jeff's, clothes and threw them aside.

"Yours, I think." Eric replied "Mine usually involved Cena."

"Oh. Now I know what to get you for Christmas next year."

"I take an extra large."

"Eight-a-half do?"

"You've been reading my blog again, haven't you?" Eric tried to get angry.

"Sorry." Jeff fake-sniffled.

"Later, dude."

Amidst all the joking, Eric and Jeff manged to get Randy cleaned up enough to check him over. He didn't appear to be seriously hurt physically. Psychologically, who knew what effect the rape would have on him. It would probably depend on how much he remembered when he awoke.

"Bed?" Jeff asked

"Who... him or us?" Eric asked

"Hah hah. You know what I mean."

"I'm trying to lighten the mood, okay." Eric grumbled "In answer, yes, but one of us should stay with him."

"Agreed. You want first watch?"

"Sure. After all the excitement, I'm not really tired right now."

They carried the inert form into the bedroom and quickly dressed him in a pair of Eric's old PJ's.

"I'll be on the couch if you need me." Jeff grabbed his pillow and stuffed rabbit.

"Cool."

"Night." Jeff kissed Eric on his way out. Soon, Eric heard the sounds of Jeff settling in downstairs. He grabbed a chair and sat next to Randy.

"Don't worry, Randy. I will find out who did this to you and they will pay. I promise you."

**To Be Continued**

_A little darker to begin with, but I'm trying to expand my style... read and review, please! Note: this is my first third-person attempt, so be kind if you can, ok!!!!!!_


	2. Over the Edge

I ain't making anything for this,so I don't know why I keep disclaiming stuff! You know the drill, read on if you dare!

Over The Edge

Randy's viewpoint

I came to with a start; my head pounding, and looked at the clock radio on the bedside table. 7:25 p.m. it read.

"Shit! McMahon will kill me!" I jumped out of bed and hastily threw some clothes on. I found my wallet and cell phone on the floor, but I couldn't find any trace of the suit I'd worn to the arena last night. This wasn't unusual, but it hadn't happened since I got married and curtailed my wandering libido.

Raw started at nine o'clock on the dot, but Vince liked to have everyone there at least two hours in advance to go over their matches and interviews. Although I had totalled a couple hotel rooms and done other things I wasn't proud of, I had never been late for work.

I sprinted through the concourse, narrowly avoiding two old ladies and a waiter. It was bad enough that I was late, but showing up covered in chocolate icing was even worse, though it might give me a believable excuse.

Driving through traffic like a madman, I made it to the arena by eight. I hoped nobody would notice that I was almost an hour late, but Vince was standing right by the door, talking to Gerald Brisco. BUSTED!

"Oh well, better take it like a man." I reached for my jacket on the seat beside me. This was when I realized that something was weird. It felt like someone had put glue on the driver's seat.

"What the...?" I moved to the left and right, but something was holding my butt to the seat. It would almost be funny if I weren't so fuckin' late. Since I was now extremely, no denying it, late, I decided to try to get out of the car without ripping my pants. The only thing worse than being late was being late with ripped pants! Again, usually not a problem, but I am one of the few guys on the roster who is very uncomfortable with the lifestyle choice made by a certain pair of guys... namely Jeff Hardy and his new husband Eric. The last thing I want is to give either of them more fuel for their warped senses of humor.

Anyhow, getting out of the car was my first priority, so I sort of rocked back and forth until I unstuck myself. In my rush to get inside, I didn't bother looking at either the seat or my butt. Surprisingly, it never crossed my mind until I got inside.

"You're late." Vince said... leave it to him to start the bleedin' obvious.

"Sorry, Boss, the hotel forgot my wake-up call." On short notice, that was the best excuse.

"Mm." Vince grunted

"Can I go now?" When I turned away, I was made aware of the mess on my clothing. Once more, Vince had the utmost tact and discretion.

"Hey, Orton, your period start early?"

"Huh?"

"The seat of your pants is covered in blood." He pointed to my butt.

"What the..." I ran to the bathroom and looked. Sure enough, not that I didn't believe him, it looked like I'd been stabbed. I tried to remember anything that might have caused it? There was no painting going on at the hotel as far as I could recall, and I'm pretty sure I hadn't loaned my car to anyone. "...is going on?"

"Beats the shit outta me." Damn, if it wasn't that Jeff Hardy! Not now! "I rarely know what is going on anymore? You ready?"

"Ready? For what?"

"We have a match tonight for the number one contender."

"We do?" I was confused. Oversleeping, then the problems with my clothes and the blood and now I'd forgotten who that night's opponent was. Things weren't looking so good.

"Yeah... how could you forget... you bothered the writers until they created the storyline for you.?"

"Sorry, Jeff, I'm not following you." I replied

"Y'know... the whole anti-gay thing. You beat up Eric last week and..."

At the mention of "beat up", I suddenly had a strange flashback... I was running down the street, but why?

"...match. Follow?"

"Huh?" I realized I had missed the last half of what Jeff had said.

Jeff looked at him, disgust written on his face. "That's the last time I agree to work a program with you if you're going to keep zoning out on me."

"Jeff, wait." I caught up with him in the corridor. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't seem to focus today. Give me five minutes to change and then we can go over everything, okay?"

"Fine. I'll be in catering."

I went back into the locker room and threw my gym bag on the floor.

"Hey, Orton, how's it going?" Edge asked. Having only been traded back to Raw on the previous week's Smackdown, it was the first night they'd be on the same card in almost eight months.

"Adam, did anything strange happen last night?"

"Like what?" Edge replied

"I dunno. Have you ever had a day when nothing seems to fit. Y'know, there's stuff where there shouldn't be..."

"You talkin' bout the crap on your ass?" Edge joked

"Never mind, I'm sure there's an explanation for all this."

"Whatever, man... I'll see you after the show?"

"Probably... if I can get through it and remember what it is I'm supposed to do."

"You'll do fine, but you might want to fix that before it rips."

"What?" As if not remembering anything else was bad enough, Edge decided to go cryptic on him.

"It looks like you closed your bag so fast you caught something on the zipper." Edge pointed.

"Thanks... I'll take care of it." Yet something else that didn't add up. I didn't even recall packing anything paper into the bag. I travelled light to shows, usually only my wrestling gear, a towel, and some toiletries was all I brought.

I pulled the sheet of paper from my bag and immediately felt light-headed. Thankfully, there was a bench to sit on nearby. I took several deep breaths before re-reading the seven words on the page.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST NIGHT"

It was unsigned.

"If this is somebody's idea of a joke, I ain't laughing!" I screamed at the walls.

"Problem, Orton?" The other person I wanted nothing to do with, Eric Hardy, had just arrived.

"Nah, I'm fine." He lied.

"Just askin'. You look like you'd seen a ghost, or eaten some of Jeff's cooking..."

"I heard that..." Jeff's voice bounced off the walls.

"Love you too, hun." Eric replied "Damn, I wish he didn't have such good hearing. You really don't look good. Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Eric, I..." I wanted to try to explain my day, but the words weren't coming out. "Have you ever had a day when everything felt off?"

"I've had a lot of days like that." Eric replied "Maybe it was all the drinking you did last night... you were pounding them back pretty fast."

"Yeah, that's probably it." I scrunched up the paper and threw it in the garbage can.

"Whatever. I'll see you in the ring."

I was left alone in the locker room again. "Get a grip, Orton." I slapped myself across the face and that seemed to clear my thoughts a little. At least enough to get dressed and then hunt down Jeff to go over our match tonight.

Later that night...

"Great match, Orton!" Eric congratulated me... "Even though you lost!"

Jeff snickered. "At least you seem to be a little more awake."

"You know what I think... I think Randy got a love note from a fan and it rattled him."

"Screw you, Cena."

"I'll pass..." John laughed

"C'mon, Randy, admit it... you've got something on the side." Jericho teased me.

"I saw the note." Eric put his two cents in. "Who is she?"

"It isn't a love note!" I was so anxious to prove them wrong, I had forgotten what the note read. Until I pulled it out of the garbage. As soon as the seven words re-registered in my mind, I got real dizzy. I think I passed out...?

John Cena's perspective

We rib each other a lot... it's a fact of the wrestling life and if we didn't do it, we'd all go crazy. So I didn't think anything of it when we started giving Randy a hard time. When he pulled the note out of the trash, I kinda thought he'd read some cute little fan's letter, we'd laugh, and it would be forgotten like that... whatever was written on that must've been a lot more than that! His eyes rolled back and Randy dropped like he'd been superkicked.

"What the..." I got to him first before he smacked his head too badly on the floor.

"Get me a wet cloth or something..." I yelled at the guys who were doing their impressions of car accident spectators.

Some Jabroni finally passed me a cloth and I patted Randy's forehead. He was burning up!

"What's going on here?" Vince had heard the commotion from his office and had come to investigate.

"I dunno... Randy was fine one moment and the next he just fainted." Jeff explained

"Maybe he had some bad chow?" Eric suggested

"Maybe... where'd you guys go last night?" Vince asked

"Some club downtown." Adam responded quickly. "But Randy left early."

"More like got kicked out." Jeff mumbled.

Eric and Adam glared at him. "Zip!" Eric mouthed.

"Let's get him to the trainer's room." Vince suggested "It's probably more comfortable than this floor."

Jeff's memories

With Cena and Jericho's help, Randy was taken away. Vince, as well as many of the other wrestlers, followed. The only three that didn't were Eric, Adam, and myself.

"What the hell was that?" Adam asked

"I dunno... you gotta watch that mouth of yours, Jeffro." Eric replied

"Sorry." I apologized

"Yeah... we gotta be careful. I'd like to know who sent that note." Adam whispered

"Me too... until we find out who did this," Eric gestured to the note. "Randy has to think it was all a bad dream."

"We agreed... until we find out who did this, Randy can't know."

"Yeah, but where do we begin...?"

"I only glanced at them." Eric stated "Maybe we should try the club after the show tonight? The bouncers might be able to help us, particularly if they are from around here."

"Good idea." Adam agreed "The three of us will case the joint."

"Actually, I need to to stay with Randy tonight."

"Why?" Being a part of the action was what Adam wanted, not babysitting.

"We have to find a way to keep his mind off what happened for as long as possible. Never having been through something like this, I don't know what his reaction will be" Eric explained

"Trust me?"

"Okay...." Adam conceded

"Think of it this way: you weren't at the club last night. Jeff and I were! If we're made out, we still have you to do the dirty work!"

"Yeah... you'll get to Edge-ucate them on what happens when you mess with one of us!" I added

Edge nodded... he liked the idea of being the "hired gun".

"Cool... I'm in!"

"I wonder how Randy's feeling?" Adam asked

"We should check on him... don't want to arouse any more suspicions than necessary."

Evil thoughts brewing, we left the locker room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Three hours later, post-RAW, Eric and Jeff met outside the club. Each took a different route and a different mode of transportation. Adam, grudgingly, had taken Randy back to his hotel room for what he promised would be a night of "male bonding".

Insert your own joke here... I don't want to ruin the atmosphere

While Jeff started talking to the bar staff, Eric struck up a conversation with one of the security guards that he recalled seeing there the previous evening.

"Not quite so busy tonight. Must make your job a little easier?" Having worked as a bouncer to make ends meet while working his way up, Eric blended in rather easily.

"Still get our idiots."

"Uh-hm. Anybody in particular I should avoid? I'm new in town."

"Just keep your hands to yourself and you'll be fine."

"I ain't worried." Eric retorted

"You see those four guys at the bar? The ones in leather?"

"Yeah. What's their story?"

"Don't quote me on this... I could lose my job if this gets out, ok?"

"Scouts honour."

"Apparently they're friends with the owner. Otherwise, I wouldn't even let them in. But last night, they set some guy up."

"How?" Eric asked.

"One of their girlfriends led this guy on; he looked like he could pass for one of them WWE-types..."

"All muscle and no brains?" Sorry, Randy!

"That's the type...anyway, they chased him out of here and from what I heard, did a real number on him in an alley somewhere... but you didn't hear that from me, right?"

JACKPOT!!!!

"They got names?" Eric asked

"If they do, I've never heard them. Excuse me." A scuffle had broken out on the other side of the club.

Eric noticed Jeff still hanging out on the other side of the bar. He quietly signalled toward the bathroom.

They pretended not to notice each other until they were both washing their hands.

"Anything?" Jeff asked

"The four Biker Mice from Mars at the bar... apparently they did a number on someone last night. Could be our guys?"

"One way to find out."

"I'll be up in five. I'm just gonna check in with Adam. See how our boy is doing."

"Check." Jeff crossed the dance floor, wondering how he could get close enough to confirm what Eric had heard earlier. He saw his opening. One of them was wearing a Hardy Boyz T-shirt!

"What's the strongest stuff you got?" He asked the bartender, making sure the four guys could see his face. Unless the shirt was ripped off a victim, maybe he could use his stardom to his advantage.

"Colt 45 hun."

"I'll take a bottle."

"That'll be..."

"Don't worry, doll... we got this one!" As Jeff had hoped, he was surrounded by the four men, and they did indeed look star-struck.

"Thanks... I appreciate it!"

"You're him, aren't you?" The "fan" slid a little closer to Jeff.

"Maybe." Seeing that Eric hadn't returned, Jeff stalled. "You don't look like wrestling fans."

"Not really. I just like hot guys."

"Really? You do know that I'm married, right?" Jeff flashed the rock on his hand.

All four of them laughed. "Right."

"Serious." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eric approach. He widened his eyes slightly and Eric nodded, taking a seat on the other side of them.

"Martini. Vodka. Dry." He ordered

"Four and a half, hon."

Eric slapped a twenty on the bar. "Keep the change." He smiled at her.

"You need anything, just ask." The barmaid smiled back. "I'm here all night."

"Hey, Hardy... you gonna introduce me to your friends?" Eric sipped at his drink, eyeing the four men.

"Just who the fuck are you?" The closest one demanded. Eric pretended to ignore him.

"I'm talking to you."

"Knock it off, guys." The barmaid shouted over, afraid that something might happen to her best customer of the evening.

"Shut up, slut!"

Eric swallowed the rest of his drink and stood. "You might want to apologize to the lady."

"Or else what?"

"I dunno." Eric swung at the man and connected, sending him reeling back into his friends. Like a cat, he bounced back and the four of them jumped Eric, pounding him with their fists.

"Hey, leave my guy alone!"

"Oh, isn't that cute! The little fag actually cares about him!" One catcalled. "Finish him, then bring the multi-haired twit. We're gonna have some fun tonight!"

One more punch and Eric fell to the ground, apparently out of it. Jeff was dragged, squealing, from his stool and herded out a back door.

The second they were out of sight, Eric stood.

"You okay, hon?"

"That way?" Eric sprinted after the five men.

Believing that they were in the clear, the gang pushed Jeff into a back alleyway; the same one Randy had been assaulted in the night before.

"Since your bodyguard ain't here, we're gonna have a little fun with you." Jeff was slammed against a wall by one of the thugs. "Mmm... let's see if you got anything worth our while."

"What..." Jeff moaned slightly when a strong pair of fingers reached between his legs. Against his wishes, he started to get hard.

"Nice... maybe we won't hurt you too badly right away." He joked "Ace, Steele, hold him."

"You got it, Blade." The arm across Jeff's throat relaxed just long enough for two pair of arms to replace it, pinning him securely to the wall.

"8-Ball... keep watch."

"You see, Hardy, while I am a fan of yours, I like death a little more, so I'm gonna do a bit of both." The man called Blade rubbed back and forth across the swelling in Jeff's pants, eliciting a little sigh from Jeff and catcalls from his friends. "I am really good at two things... killing people and sucking cock. When I'm done sucking your cock, I'm gonna kill you."

Jeff gulped.

"I'll give you a chance though." Blade laughed "I won't kill you until after you come. So the longer you can hold out, the longer you'll live."

"No, please!!!" Jeff pleaded

"Think of it like this... at least you'll die with a smile on your face." Blade unbuckled Jeff's belt and popped his button.

"This'll be sweet." Blade pulled down Jeff's pants and boxers. His erect cock sprung free and Jeff cursed himself for being so easily aroused. He tried thinking unsexy thoughts... baseball scores... how much debt he was in, but the second Blade wrapped his lips around the head of his penis, Jeff knew he probably had about two minutes to live.

Meanwhile, 8-Ball was cursing his luck. It seemed that almost every time there was a really cute guy gonna get the business, he had to hold guard.

"Why does Blade get to have all the fun?" He groaned

"Beats me." A punch came out of the darkness and 8-Ball fell to his knees. Before he could get his bearings, he suddenly learned to fly, falling down a flight of stairs leading to the basement pool hall, appropriately named "The Corner Pocket".

Not having a clue about what was going on, Blade and his buddies were enjoying the torture they were inflicting on the young Hardy Boy.

"I don't think he's gonna last much longer." Ace laughed, watching Jeff's face contort.

"Nor do I? Isn't that right, boy... you're gonna shoot your wad, then Blade's gonna splatter your brains all over this wall." Steele growled in Jeff's ear.

"Hey, 8-Ball... any signs of that guy's friend?" Ace looked over his shoulder

No reply from the guard. He was currently spilling his blood at the bottom of a cement staircase.

"Where the fuck has he gone?" Blade took Jeff's dick out of his mouth. "You two find that fudge-packer and get his ass back here. I'll take care of our friend."

Ace and Steele booked down the alley. "Now it's just you and me... time to finish you." He grabbed Jeff's spit-slicked cock and started jerking it.

"No!!!!" Jeff moaned, unable to hold himself off any longer. He shot, covering Blade's hand as well as his stomach with his juice.

"Nice... but like I said, at least you'll die with a smile on your face."

Jeff stared blankly at the pistol that was placed between his eyes.

"Now smile."

THUNK!

The evil grin that was on Blade's face was suddenly gone, replaced by a look of shock. He suddenly pitched forward onto Jeff and that's when he saw the knife in his back. Jeff screamed, pushing Blade away.

"Sorry I took so long." Eric pulled the knife from Blade's back like he was removing a turkey leg and wiped it on the inside of the now-deceased's leather jacket.

"Sorry!. I was almost..." Jeff was going to ask Eric what kind of man lets his husband get jerked off by a psycho when Eric's phone rang.

"What's up?" Eric answered while placing a card on the dead man's chest. "Okay, We're on our way."

"Let's go..." Eric took off down the alley and over the fence. Jeff delayed only long enough to pull up his pants and then he followed. By the time Ace & Steele returned, dragging a semi-conscious 8-Ball between them, Eric and Jeff were long gone. The alley was empty except for Blade.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I dunno." Ace replied "It was that Goddamn Hardy Boy, I know it!"

"Are you sure?" Steele shuddered "Look at that."

He pointed to the sign that had been stuck to Blade's chest by way of the knife that had also been used to dispatch him. "I know what you did last night." Had been written in crude blood-red letters.

"Yeah right." Ace crumpled the page and yelled into the sky. "You'll pay for this, you little fuck! I swear it!"

Eric and Jeff sprinted back to their car, parked a safe distance away. "We gotta problem, bro." Eric said

"I know... you just killed a man." Jeff gasped

"It's not that... it's Randy! I'll explain on the way!"

TO BE CONTINUED

_Revenge is sooooo sweet, but what about Randy... stay tuned!_


	3. A Stone's Throw

Insert disclaimer here

A Stone's Throw

Eric and Jeff drove through town, paying little attention to things like traffic, stop lights, speed limits, and stuff like that.

"What'd Edge say?" Jeff pressed him. Eric swerved hard to avoid a slow-moving sports car.

"Not much. Just that Randy saw something on TV and I guess it triggered a memory." He replied, turning the wheel hard to go around one last car and then really gun it down a deserted road.

"Slow down!" Jeff held on to the seat. "It won't do Randy any good if we get killed too!"

Eric slowed down to 120. "Sorry. My adrenaline's rushing."

At the slower speed, Jeff relaxed a little, although he felt a little used. He hoped a long shower could get the creepiness off of him.

"I'm sorry I took so long." It seemed like Eric could read Jeff's mind sometimes, which Jeff was thankful for.

"Yeah. I thought maybe you were just gonna watch your husband get his dick sucked and his brains blown in all at once."

"I had to wait for right moment. Even after I took care of the guard, I still couldn't rush right in. There will still three of them. Armed, too." Eric seemed to sense what Jeff was feeling. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"It's okay, dude." Jeff could still feel Blade's lips on him and while it had felt good, he still considered it cheating. He hoped Eric would forgive him as well. "I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"For not putting up a little more resistance."

"Huh?" Eric finally stopped for a red light. He looked at Jeff, plainly confused. "Jeff, you don't need to apologize to me." He patted Jeff's thigh, a little smile appearing. "How about we make sure Randy is okay and then I'll make you forget about having that evil man's lips on you?"

Eric's hand moved a little higher, causing Jeff to gasp.

"I love you, Eric." Jeff sighed

"For what... copping a feel in the middle of traffic?" The light finally changed and Eric drove on. Their house was only a couple blocks away.

"No." Jeff look embarrassed. "For being so... understanding." He couldn't put it into words, but at that exact moment he felt more in love with Eric than he ever had.

"Me too. You'll always be my little warrior, no matter what. Now that I have you, I'm not letting you go without a fight... we're here."

"So what happened?" Eric asked

Adam was waiting in the den; Randy was nowhere to be found.

"I dunno exactly. I was in the kitchen getting us something to eat. I heard the TV and then a shout. Randy's ran upstairs, crying, and locked himself in the bathroom. I haven't been able to get him to come out." Adam replied "I didn't fuck up, did I?"

"It's cool. Lemme talk to him." Eric headed up stairs. "Oh, Edgester... on down, three to go!"

"Awesome... will I get a chance with those chumpstains?"

"Definitely... Jeff has to lay low for a bit... I think his friends think he did it." Eric ran up the stairs.

"You hungry? I'm making spaghetti."

"MMM... sketti's my fave." Jeff followed Adam.

"Randy?" Eric tapped on the door. "It's me, Eric."

"Go away." Randy yelled through the door.

"Can't do that... I need to go." He hoped that Randy wouldn't call his bull by reminding him that he had another bathroom just off the master suite.

"Fine..." Eric quickly picked the lock. Randy was curled up next to the throne, sobbing uncontrollably.

"What's wrong?" Eric sat down on the commode and patted his shoulder.

"I don't know. If I knew I could handle it!" Randy's looked up, his tear-streaked face belying the turmoil he was in.

"Randy... if I thought you could handle it, I'd tell you what you need to know, but I'm not sure if you would a: believe me or b: be able to handle it right now."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?" Randy sniffled, wiping his eyes.

"You and I aren't exactly bff's." Eric replied "As a matter of fact, you didn't speak to either me or Jeff for months after you found out that we were together."

"Sorry. You and Jeff are the first two gay people that I've known and it was hard for me to accept it. My family isn't exactly open about that sort of thing. If my Dad even knew that I had played doctor with a boy when I was younger, he'd have beaten me to within an inch of my life." Randy replied

"At least you had a Dad. Mine left when I was six." Eric sighed "And my Mom was never really around either."

"Sorry, man, I didn't know."

"It's not something I talk about a lot, bro. I just want you to know that you aren't the only one with problems and we're all here for you, but you may have to trust a couple of queers." Eric smiled

"Thanks, man." Randy had calmed considerably. Eric's psychology degree was definitely coming in handy.

"Come on downstairs and we'll talk. I smell something good." Eric left the bathroom, hoping everything was going to work out.

"...and in local news, police have identified the body of a man found earlier tonight. Andre Nicholls, known to police as "Blade", was found dead in an alley behind "Phil's", a notorious downtown bar. He had apparently been stabbed once in the back. Police are asking anyone with information to come forward, but according to a police spokesman, they are not expecting much. Nicholls was the leader of a small gang of thugs, known as the Four Aces, and speculation is that he was involved in something involving rival gang members. More news as it becomes available."

Eric smiled. "Oh, we're a rival gang, alright."

Over their impromptu dinner, the topic of that night's activities was deliberately avoided. Instead, they talked about their upcoming eight-man elimination tag match. WWE had set up a Survivor Series-type match and, to mix things up a little more, had put the four of them on one side against a team consisting of John Cena, Y2J, Shawn Michaels, and JBL.

After dinner, the liquor was broken out and serious drinking began. The food and drink seemed to make Randy forget his troubles.

"How are you two getting back to your hotels?" Eric finally asked at about two a.m. Scheduling was such that Raw and the Smackdown-ECW supershow were both being held in the area. This meant that Eric and Jeff had almost a whole week at home before they had to fly out. This also meant that there were a lot of wrestlers hanging around. Not bad if you needed someone to drink with, but otherwise, mildly awkward.

"Dunno." Edge slurred. He and Randy were both gone. Randy a little more than he.

"We got the spare room. You're both welcome to crash." Jeff was looking a little glazed as well.

"I'll take the couch." Adam quickly replied "Randy snores."

"I do not!" Randy retorted "Well, not much!"

"Not much? Why do I think I roomed with Jay instead of you?" Adam answered

"No comment." Eric snickered, finishing his beer. "I'm going to bed. I don't think Vince will be too happy if half of his main event shows up still plastered."

The party quickly broke up. While Jeff scrambled around, looking for blankets and pillows to make up the couch, Eric and Randy staggered up the stairs.

"Jeff and I are just down the hall if you need anything." He said, having to support Randy to his room.

"I'm fine, man. Don't worry."

"I'm not." Eric replied "It's just that after earlier, I wasn't sure."

"I was just stressed." Randy quickly said

The sudden attitude change shocked Eric, but he said nothing. He'd regretted not telling Randy the reason for his emotional turmoil, but when he'd suggested it to Jeff and Adam before dinner, they'd both told him no.

"No big, dude." Eric pushed the door open and dropped Randy on the bed. "You want those pajamas back?"

"I'm okay." Randy struggled out of his shoes before falling back down. "Ah, fuck it."

"Lemme help you." Eric quickly got Randy out of his shirt and socks. The bruises on his chest and back were quite shocking against his normal tan.

Eric went to help Randy out of his pants, planning to let him sleep in his skivvies. When he unsnapped his belt, Randy's eyes snapped open and he suddenly pounced on Eric.

"Don't even fuckin' touch me like that again!" He only landed one punch, but it was enough to knock Eric on his ass.

"What the hell is up with you?" Eric yelled, scrambling to get to his feet before he was assaulted again. Memories of the one time Jeff had gotten physical with him flooded back.

"Eric, I..." Randy had gone from Jekyll to Hyde in a matter of seconds and back to Jekyll even faster. "I'm sorry. I had way too much to drink."

"'Sokay. It's my fault, I guess. Good night." It didn't bother Eric what Randy had just done, rather than that Eric hadn't seen it coming.

"What happened?" Jeff was already in bed.

"Randy can sure be a belligerent drunk." Quickly, Eric stripped and climbed in beside Jeff.

Jeff looked over. "Yeah, right, Eric. Now what really happened?"

"We really should've told him." Eric stared at the ceiling.

"Not yet. We still have work to do." Jeff ruffled Eric's hair.

"I guess." Eric looked back. "Now didn't I promise you I'd make you forget about that nasty man?"

"What did you have in mind?" Jeff teased

"I'll think of something." Eric smothered Jeff's mouth with a kiss, while his fingers began a slow descent down his body.

Jeff awoke suddenly. The clock beside him said 5:17 a.m and he'd thought that he had just been having a very vivid dream until he heard it again. Footsteps and they were getting closer.

"Eric... wake up!" Jeff elbowed the sleeping man beside him.

"It's Saturday.." Eric mumbled "I don't have to go to school today."

"Eric." Jeff elbowed him harder. Eric woke up with a lurch.

"Wha?" He really didn't appreciate being aroused like this so early.

"Listen."

Eric strained. The only sound he could hear was the sound of the birds outside. "Go back to sleep. You were imagining things."

Eric rolled over and was soon fast asleep again. Jeff waited; almost convinced he'd been hearing things too, and was about ready to doze off again when their bedroom door was suddenly flung open.

Jeff screamed. Eric startled, fell out of bed, taking half the covers with him.

"What the hell...?" He stood, trying to quickly disentangle the bedclothes. "Oh, for God's sake, it's only Randy."

"Randy???" Jeff peered through splayed fingers.

"Yes." Eric clicked on the light over the bed. "See?"

"Oh." Jeff said, relieved.

"What's up?" Eric was now completely awake.

"Uh..." Randy was still in what Eric had left him to sleep, but he looked more than a little bit nervous. "You said you were here for me, right?"

"Yeah, I meant it. If there's something you want to get off your chest, we'll listen..." Jeff snored slightly. "Okay, I'll listen. Apparently, being scared makes Jeffro very sleepy."

"It's just that... I really don't want to be alone right now." Randy shuffled his feet. "Eric, I'm scared, but I don't know why!"

"Go on, tell him." The devil on his shoulder urged him. "No, you agreed not to." The angel on his other one argued.

"Climb in." Eric wasn't sure how Randy would take the offer.

Randy ambled over, kicking his pants off and jumped in. This woke Jeff up again.

"What now?"

"Shove over." Eric ordered "Randy needs to squeeze in."

"Randy?" Jeff looked over at Eric, suspiciously. "Why?"

"I'll tell you later. Now move." Eric pushed in beside him, giving Randy just enough room to slide in.

"MM." Jeff moved maybe a half inch. Eric knew that was the best he'd get at that particular moment. It was a tight fit... too tight for Eric. With Jeff draped over his right side and moving every five minutes, Eric couldn't get comfortable enough to reclaim the sleep he desperately needed. He was drifting off and on when he heard a funny kind of snoring right beside him.

Straining his neck, he looked over his shoulder at Jeff, but the noise wasn't coming from him. He was out of it, his arm clinging to a stuffed rabbit. Eric had always joked about how that could still be in one piece.

He looked back at Randy. In the moonlight shining through the blinds, he could barely make out his face. He seemed to be breathing deeply, but the occasional tightening of his chest gave him away.

Eric reached down and grasped Randy's hand in his own.

"I know what happened to you last night." He said

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_Coming soon to a fanfic near you... will Eric tell Randy? What about Ace, Steele, and 8-Ball... one hint: someone will not be alive at the end of the next chapter... maybe!_


	4. Edgecution

The following contains scenes of violence and nudity... viewer discretion is advised. The following is a work of fiction... any relation to actual events is purely coincidental.

Edge-cution

Nine a.m. and Ace, Steele, and 8-Ball were wandering the streets. It had been less than twenty-four hours since their self-proclaimed "leader" had been knifed down and they wanted revenge.

"If I get my hands on that fucker, I'll make him wish Blade had killed him." Ace growled

"Leave a little bit for me." Steele was playing with his pocketknife, flipping it open and letting it slam closed repeatedly.

"Same here. Ass-fucking faggot!" 8-Ball was still showing signs of his involvement by way of a really nice black eye.

Ace and Steele looked at 8-Ball, still questioning his loyalty. They didn't quite believe his story as to how they found him at the bottom of the stairs when he was supposed to be watching out for them. He had explained that he was attacked by someone, but that didn't quite jibe with what the other two knew of him. He'd been against three, four, and sometimes five men at once and had always come out on top.

"We'll find them and we'll make them pay. I swear." Steele flicked his knife closed and glared at the other two.

"How?" 8-Ball asked

"Simple. We can get that Hardy Boy after the wrasslin' show tonight." Steele's eyes gleamed.

"Yeah, it'll be a real twist of fate."

Around the same time the trio was plotting Jeff's demise, the Hardy household was slowly waking up, Eric being first. Not because he'd slept for any length of time, but because Randy kept thrashing about. He'd finally dozed off around six-thirty, but his dreams were too vivid to keep him asleep for long.

Eric climbed out from between Jeff and the still twitching Randy and quickly dressed.

"Must... have... coffee." He groaned, staggering into the kitchen, passed the sleeping Adam. "Lucky dog." Adam was probably the only one of the four to get any decent shut-eye in the past twenty-four hours.

He set the coffeemaker and waited. While he waited, he drummed ideas through his head regarding the three survivors. He wanted them voted off the island and fast, but how to do it without raising suspicions? He knew Jeff needed to watch his back, but maybe between he and Adam, they could skew the odds in their favour a little more???

"You're up early."

Eric whirled, it was Adam.

"Didn't sleep much, bro. You?"

"Like a log. Although I woke up once when Jeff screamed. What happen? He see a ghost?"

"Something like that. Are you still interested in a little night work?" Since neither Randy nor Jeff were downstairs at the moment, Eric felt that it was probably a good time to talk to Adam about their 'problem'.

"Depends what you had in mind?" Adam's eyes gleamed evilly.

"Meet me after the show and we'll go headhunting." Eric answered

"What about..."

"We'll tell him it's his turn to watch Randy. I got a feeling tonight is gonna be very interesting for us all." Eric sighed, hoping he'd come up with a plan by then.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is an eight-man elimination tag match. Introducing first, team number one!" Lillian Garcia intoned. Backstage, the two teams waited for their introductions.

"First, from New York City, JBL! His partners, from San Antonio, Texas, the Heartbreak Kid... Shawn Michaels and, from Manhasset, New York, Chris Jericho and their partner, from West Newberry, Massachusetts, John Cena!"

All four of them piled out of JBL's stretch limo and strutted down to the ring. It was kind of strange, seeing JBL and Cena partnering up, but Vince had said that he was going to start mixing the pot a little more.

"Everyone ready to kick some ass?" Jeff shouted

"Ready!"

"Bring it!"

"Randy?"

"Huh, what... oh yeah, let's go!"

Eric cocked his eyebrows at Jeff and Edge. "Keep an eye on Randy." The simple gesture said. Almost unnoticeably, they nodded a reply.

"And their opponents..." Lillian had to wait for the limo to back away before she could introduce the next team.

"First, at a combined weight of 468 pounds, Edge and Randy Orton... team Rated RKO!"

It was a strange reaction. Since faves and heels were mixed on both teams, the fans were divided with their loyalties. Some found it hard to cheer for half of one team and half of another.

"And their partners... now living in Boston, Mass., weighing five hundred thirteen pounds... Jeff and Eric Hardy!"

"Jeff, don't look now, but we got problems..." Eric whispered

"Huh?" Jeff said, headbanging away.

"Our friends are here. Left ringside, fourth row."

"Cool. I'll take care of them later."

"You're watching Randy tonight. Gotta keep you outta sight in case they made you." Eric replied. "Go!"

They sprinted in tandem to the ring and slid under the bottom rope. Usually, Eric got mat burn whenever he tried this, but tonight he pulled it off flawlessly.

In their corner, JBL's team talked strategy while three members of Jeff's team whispered about what they were doing after the match. Then, for about two seconds, they talked strategy until Randy glimpsed his attackers.

"You see those guys in leather over there?" Randy beckoned

"Yeah... what about them?" Jeff asked

"I dunno, but I feel like I know them from somewhere."

"Just faces in the crowd to me." Eric replied, looking over and shrugging. "Don't sweat it."

"Whatever." Randy also shrugged

"Yeah, dude. You're starting." Adam said. Across the ring, John Cena was making a show out of loosening up.

Randy squared off with John. After the necessary shoving, things got down to business and fast. Randy sent John into the ropes and immediately RKO'ed him.

"What the hell was that?" JBL demanded "What are you doing, Orton?"

Even Randy's own team was confused. "That wasn't in the script, was it?" Eric asked

Even Randy looked stunned.

"Tag!" Jeff shouted

Randy tagged Jeff in and he jumped the ropes and went to John, who was just sitting up in obvious pain. Jeff 'accidentally' whipped him back into his corner, allowing one of his partners to tag himself in.

"What was that?" Eric demanded, keeping an eye on the match and the other on Randy.

"Huh?"

Eric rolled his eyes. "Never mind."

When he officially tagged in, Eric allowed HBK to slingshot him into his corner. While he was being pummelled by all four, he basically told them to watch Randy carefully and their pre-match preps were all out the window.

"We'll keep the same order of elim, though?" Shawn whispered

"Sure."

"Okay, I'm off."

"Gotcha." Eric fought out and shot Shawn into the ropes. He bounced off and Eric slammed him to the mat and fell back, tagging Jeff back in. One look and Jeff knew what he was expected to do. He flew, landing a perfect Whisper in the Wind, and pinned HBK.

JBL entered, and a clothesline from hell quickly evened up the sides.

Adam re-entered, the idea being to keep Randy out of the match as much as possible.

"You back with us?" Eric asked Randy, trying to keep the young superstar's mind on the match. Something was wrong with him, but whether or not it had anything to do with a certain trio of fans Eric didn't know for sure, but he had a pretty damn good idea.

Adam landed in a heap in their corner and before Eric could do anything, Randy had tagged himself in. Eric looked to JBL with a watch-your-back expression. Bradshaw nodded and quickly clotheslined Randy.

Eric broke up the pin attempt, earning him a glare. For good measure, he nailed JBL with a hard right hand. "Don't pin him." He growled, helping JBl to his feet. "We need him out here as long as possible.

The referee shooed Eric back to his corner. While his back was turned, Randy hit another RKO, but this time his opponent was more prepared and sold it like he should. A one, two, three later and it was three on two.

When Randy stepped back, Eric entered. Even though there was no tag, Eric slapped his hands together loud enough to make the ref think he heard a tag.

"Step out, Orton." Thankfully, the referee had been appraised of the situation. After being pinned, HBK had talked to someone backstage and a message had been relayed to Mike Chioda.

Randy pouted, returning to his corner. Eric looked around. With the exception of Cena on the other side of the ring, this was turning into a heel vs heel match. He waited for Y2J to enter the ring and the two of them battled for a good five minutes before Jericho tagged Cena in. Eric tagged Adam.

"Sell it. You're next one out." Eric relayed under the pretext of a high five.

"Already?"

"Yeah... get changed and be ready to go when I get back. I'm next after you. Jeff will keep an eye on Randy for us."

In short order, Adam was fu'ed, Jericho was disqualified for shoving the referee, and Eric tapped out to the STFU, leaving Randy vs. Cena. Despite his earlier action, Randy had recovered enough to have a decent match before also submitting. By the time he'd tapped out, both Adam and Eric were in their civvies and waiting by the loading dock.

"Wanna go for a drink, Randy?" Jeff asked

"Yeah, sure." Randy replied "Just us?"

"Unfortunately. Adam and Eric are already gone. Something about some pressing date. No, I don't think Eric is cheating on me." Jeff added

"Did I say..." Randy faded out.

"Randy? You're zoning again." Jeff waved his hand in Randy's face.

"Huh?"

"See a hot girl or something?" Jeff joked. Not wanting girls at the moment himself, and Randy being married made the comment work. But it wasn't a girl that had made Randy stop and stare, as Jeff soon found out. It was Ace, Steele, and 8-Ball. They had just walked past the door leading to the backstage area. They were laughing, and generally making themselves known, but thankfully they hadn't seen either Randy nor Jeff.

"Let's go." Jeff pulled Randy the other way.

"Those three guys in the leather. Do I know them?"

"I dunno, man." Jeff replied "Do you?"

"I asked you first. I have a feeling like..."

"Deja-vu." Jeff finished "Yeah, it happens to me all the time. Let's go before all the hot chicks are taken."

On their way to Jeff's car, he quickly texted Eric. "EXIT 13."

"NP."

Jeff sighed. Eric and Adam had better be right.

Dressed in matching black coats and baseball caps, Eric and Adam waited for the crowd to leave the building. The last thing that either of them wanted was to be recognized by someone and have to deal with fans before they could follow their prey.

"Fuckin' security."

"Don't worry, we'll deal with them later." It was Ace.

"What do we do?" Adam gut-whispered

"Follow them... they probably don't live together. Worse-case scenario: we have to wait a day."

Eric and Adam followed half a block behind. Once clear of the arena, it was much easier, but a lot harder to stay out of sight. Thankfully, ten blocks away, 8-Ball split away. Considering the hard time that Ace and Steele were giving their supposed friend, it was curious as to why he still hung with them.

"Take this." Eric whispered, passing a small object to Adam. "I'll confront him, you sneak up behind.:"

They continued to follow 8-Ball, who seemed to be in no rush to go anywhere, home or otherwise. He wandered the streets for hours, occasionally pausing to stare at a pretty girl, or relieve himself on the side of a building.

"Must have a crib somewhere." Edge whispered

"Hope so. I'm getting a little stiff." Eric answered "If he doesn't give us any idea of where he's going, we'll split up at the next intersection."

8-Ball suddenly turned down a through alley. "Go!" Eric shouted.

Adam zigzagged to intercept him t the other end while Eric ran in immediate pursuit.

8-Ball was standing by a flaming barrel, casually lighting a cigarette, when Eric caught up.

"Whatcho want. man... you're that fag from the club!"

"Yeah. I gotta bone to pick with you." Eric retorted

"Like I'm scared. You got lucky last time. This time I got all the cards." 8-Ball pulled a switchblade from his leather jacket and dangled it in front of Eric.

"Oh?" Eric also lit a cigarette from the nearby brazier. "Obviously you can't fight fair."

"I don't need a knife to take care of you." 8-Ball put it back inside. "But only one of us will leave here alive."

"Cool." Eric flicked his cigarette in the direction of 8-Ball. "Let's rock."

Eric and 8-Ball circled each other, looking for the right moment to attack. "Come on, queerboy, make your move."

"Are you that anxious to die?"

"I'm not the one... " His rebuttal was cut short by Eric's fist smashing into his face. Quickly on top, Eric continued to pound on the thug, breaking his nose, and splitting his lip.

"Had enough?" He demanded

"Never!" Although he was on the bottom, 8-Ball managed to get a knee up into Eric's lower abdomen. Eric gasped, and 8-Ball quickly reversed their positions. "Now I have you!"

"Well, now that you have me, what are you gonna do... fuck me?" Eric laughed "Like I'd ever let a closet case like you near me."

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuck you up." 8-Ball laughed harder, reaching for his knife. His expression changed slightly when he realized that his pocket was empty.

"Lose your toy?" Eric knew exactly where 8-Ball's knife was. It had fallen from his jacket when Eric first punched him and it was now securely in Adam's hand.

"It'll just make killing you more... aughh!" Adam stabbed 8-Ball in the throat. He grabbed at his neck, trying to comprehend what had happened, but it was to no use. He was dead in a matter of seconds.

"Nice one, Edgester." Eric replied "How'd that feel?"

"What a rush!"

"Yeah, it was about time you lost your virginity." Adam helped Eric to his feet. "Two down, two to go!"

"What happens now?" Edge asked

"We go back to the hotel and wait for our next opportunity. It's quite a feeling, killing someone, isn't it?" Eric replied

"Yeah. My adrenaline is still pumping." Adam answered

"I know. You're hard." Eric stated

"Huh?" Adam looked down at the bulge in his jeans. Embarrassed, he tried to adjust himself.

"Don't worry, man. I got hard my first time too."

"Oh?"

"You want some help with that?" Eric smiled

"But..."

"It's the least I can do. You kinda saved my ass back there."

Not waiting for an answer, Eric reached down and caressed the growing bulge in Adam's pants.

"Eric, you don't... what about Jeff?"

"I won't say anything if you don't." Eric pulled the zipper down and reached inside. Adam groaned at the light touch.

The only sound in the alley was Adam's breathing. Eric pulled Adam's cock out of his underwear and starting jerking it. It was already leaking precum.

"I'm not gonna..."

"I know. It's probably a good thing." Eric stroked faster, making Edge gasp.

It only took seconds before his penis started to convulse and shoot thick ropes across the alley. Adam watched while he shot stream after stream. After eight, he lost count.

"Wow!" He held onto Eric's shoulder as he finished. "That was incredible."

"Adrenaline does things like that. Now let's get out of here before we have unwanted guests."

Leaving their note with the corpse, They began the long walk back to the hotel.

**To Be Continued**

_Halfway home... what fate remains for Ace and Steele... and what about Randy? The pieces are starting to fall into place or are they?_

_Read, review, reply... they're all welcome!  
_


	5. You Can't See Me

All characters copyright to those copyrighters that hold the copyrights...

You Can't See Me... or Can You?

"Where the hell is he?" Steele demanded, anxiously pacing outside a local eatery.

"Dunno. It's not like him to be late." Ace replied, rolling up his collar.

"I 'm really starting to fuckin' wonder." Steele retorted, doing the same. "It may just be the two of us from here on."

"You know me." Ace answered "When I have ever fucked you up?"

"Never... and if you wanna keep it goin', it better stay that way."

"Let's do this."

"It'll be a pleasure." Both of the men flicked their blades and strolled in.

The club scene was dead that night, so Jeff and Randy had decided to grab a bite to eat then call it an early night. The two WWE superstars had no idea what mortal danger they were in for until Ace and Steele were standing right in front of their table.

"Evening gentlemen, mind if we join you?" Ace sneered. Both men fingered their respective blades.

"Like we have a choice?" Jeff retorted

"No." Steele replied, beckoning for them to move with his knife.

"You know these guys, Hardy?" Randy asked

"Get a load of him... you know these guys????" Ace laughed

"Whatever problem you have with me, leave Randy alone." Jeff pleaded

Randy still looked confused. "Jeff, what is going on?"

"You don't remember us...? After the fun we had in the alley... I'm hurt!" Steele dangled his knife in front of Randy's face, swinging it hypnotically back and forth.

"Jeff, what are they talking about?" Randy quaked

"Yeah, Jeff, why don't you tell him what we're talking about?" Ace laughed

"Why don't you?" Jeff realized that right now, nobody knew where he had taken Randy and unless he could get a message to either Adam or Eric, neither he nor the Legend Killer would see the sunrise.

"Love to." Ace replied "You see, Randy, my buddies and I taught you a little lesson the other night..."

While Ace ranted, Jeff slowly edged his phone out of his pocket.

"...and then we... what the fuck do you think you are doing?"

"Huh?"

"Don't try to be a hero or we'll shank you both right here."

"Sorry." Jeff moaned and quickly rested his head on the table.

"Don't get too comfy. We're going for a ride."

"We are?" Jeff asked

"Well, three of us are. You're staying here." Ace swung and buried his knife, hilt-deep in Jeff's ribs.

"Jeff!" Randy screamed

"Shut it!" Steele punched Randy, dazing him. "Let's move!"

Ace and Steele dragged Randy out of the restaurant. Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice a semi-conscious man being escorted from the joint. Apathy aside, the scream should've alerted someone.

Jeff was in shock. The blood spurting from his right side soon made him feel light-headed. Futilely, he tried to stop the flow with a handful of napkins, and when that failed, his shirt. Nothing was working. His vision was already starting to waver, when he saw his last hope. He reached for his phone again. It took almost all of his remaining strength to open it and scroll down to Eric's number. With a heavy finger, he dialled.

It rang once... twice... three times... four times...

"You've reached Eric... leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Ciao!"

"No!" Jeff moaned, a tear trickling down his face. "Help..."

Then the world went black.

Adam and Eric, fresh from their adventure, were looking for a cab to take them back to the arena where, hopefully, their cars were still parked.

"I wonder how Jeff and Randy are doing?" Eric asked

"Why don't you call them and find out?" Adam replied

"Okay, Captain Obvious." Eric snickered

Eric punched a button and waited. From his expression, it was apparent that something was amiss.

"Hmm..." He said, flipping the lid closed. "It went right to his voice mail."

"Is that a problem?"

"That's never happened before. I guess Jeff got rid of the call forwarding." Eric put his phone back in his pocket, completely missing that the red message light was flashing.

"Cab or walk?" Adam asked, looking at the deserted streets.

"I guess we walk." Eric replied "It's not too far to the arena, if I remember how to get there. We were a little distracted on our way out, after all."

"That's why neither of us are career criminals." Adam joked "We can't even find our getaway cars."

"Where are you taking me?" Randy asked

"Nowhere special." Steele and Ace had hot-wired a nearby car and driven away. Steele rode in the back with Randy, knife to the ribs, while Ace drove recklessly toward the outside of town.

"Since we had so much fun with you last time, we're gonna do it again, right Ace?"

They both laughed loudly at Steele's joke. Randy cringed. What he'd heard in the eatery had been enough to unlock that part of memory that he'd locked the trauma into.

"You'll never get away with this!" Randy shouted

"And why not? It's not like you're gonna be around long enough to tell anyone. And we've already taken care of that fag friend of yours." It was ironic that neither Ace nor Steele knew of Eric and Adam's involvement, or they might not have been so cocky. "Can't this crate go any faster?"

'I'm floorin' it... what's your rush?" Ace looked through the rear-view mirror. "If you're that anxious to get going, make him suck you."

Steele looked at Randy, and licked his lips in anticipation. "I'll save enough of him for you." He reached for his belt. "Don't even think about biting or I'll stick this in your ear."

"You do know what happens when someone suffers a brain trauma, don't you? It causes the victim to simultaneously relieve himself and bite down. I've heard that the bite reflex is so strong, they need a crowbar to pry the victim's jaws apart." Randy said

Steele's hands paused, his jeans half-open. "You're lying."

"Try me. Anything you put in my mouth I will bite." Randy dared him. A laughing fit suddenly overtook him.

"Shut up!" Steele punched him. "We'll see who's laughing when this is over."

The car drove on, passing Adam and Eric on their way back to the arena. Randy's eyes widened, hoping that he'd been seen, but not wanting to risk drawing the attention of his captors.

"Was that Randy?" Adam asked

"Huh?" Eric had been trying unsuccessfully for the past twenty minutes to reach Jeff. His voice mail kept picking up.

"That was Randy. I'm sure of it!" Adam took off after the car. Eric sprinted as fast as he could behind him.

They ran for a couple blocks before realizing that there was no way either of them could catch up.

"Adam, wait, it's useless." Eric panted "And I'm too old to be doing this!"

"We're the same age, bro." Adam pointed out.

"Okay, we're too old to be doing this." Eric corrected "Why would Randy be driving out here to begin with?"

"Beats me." Adam answered

"And that begs another question... where's Jeff?" Eric demanded

"You don't think..."

"Fuck this! You follow them, I gotta find Jeff." Eric pulled his phone out and for the first time, noticed the message light.

"You have one new message..." Eric waited for it. All he could hear was a lot of chatter, sounding like a bar or something. Then one word... "Help!"

"You okay?" Adam noticed Eric suddenly go white.

"What the hell are you waiting for? A written invitation! Go!"

Adam ran off one way, Eric the other.

"God, please don't let anything happen to my Jeff." Eric looked around for the nearest police station, car, or just somebody who could help him find out what had happened. Not seeing anything like that, Eric panicked. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He ran up one street and down another, not trying to get anywhere in particular, but hoping for a solution.

"Dammit! You'd think in a town this size, a cop wouldn't be hard to find!" Eric swore

When his phone rang, he jumped. "Hello?"

It was Jericho. "Eric, we've been trying to reach you."

"What happened?"

"Are you sitting down...?"

"Chris, just tell me what's wrong?"

"It's Jeff. He's been stabbed. Where are you?"

Like he'd been hit with Triple H's sledgehammer, Eric collapsed.

"Eric, you still there?"

"Where is he?"

"I'm coming to get you. Where are you?" Chris demanded

"Just outside Fenway Park."

"Don't go anywhere. I will be there in five minutes." Chris ordered

Eric leaned against a wall, wishing that this was all just a dream. He punched, kicked, pinched, and slapped himself, trying to make himself wake up, but only succeeded in feeling more helpless with each blow. Eventually, he put his head down and let the tears start to flow.

Unknown to that drama, Adam was sprinting as fast as he could after the getaway car. He was able to keep up, barely, thanks to the stop-and-go traffic. Finally, the car pulled into an almost empty parking garage.

"How do I get past the chumpstain at the booth?" He thought. The well-being of his former partner in Rated RKO depended on how fast he could come up with a solution. "C'mon, Adam think!" Suddenly, his eyes lit and he took off down the street.

It wasn't hard for Chris to find Eric. How many normal people are curled up against a building in the middle of the day? In this case one.

"Heya, man..." Usually that worked, but this time Chris had no idea what to say next.

Eric's tear-streaked face looked up, the rage behind it barely concealed.

"I really have no idea what's going on with you and Jeff and Randy and Adam, and I don't want to get involved, but just sitting here won't do much, dontcha think?"

Eric shrugged. Chris was right, but should he explain the situation? Right now, Eric felt like a scared little boy who wanted his teddy bear. Completely opposite from his on-screen character, but so what?

"C'mon, man. I'm gonna take you to Jeff. He ain't doin' so good, but who knows?" Chris helped Eric to his feet and walked him to a nearby car.

"I loved the way you shanked that freak." Steele laughed

"Yeah, me too."

When they realized that Randy was serious about biting anything they were gonna stick in his mouth, all thoughts of fun went out the window.

"So what are we gonna do with him, then?" Ace asked

They had parked their stolen car at the top of a parking garage while they pondered their next move.

"Obviously, we can't let him leave..."

"Well, duh!"

"Well, what's your idea, then... or do I have to do all the work as usual?"

"As usual, my ass!" Steele yelled, lightly punching Ace on the shoulder.

"Fuck you... if it weren't for the rest of us, you'd be back on the streets, hustling your sorry ass for coke!" Ace punched back.

"You're the dope head, not me!"

"Go screw!"

Still in the car, Randy watched the two of them go at it, hoping he could find a way out without being discovered. He'd been bound and gagged soon after arriving on the roof and was now lying across the back seat. There was little give in the ropes they'd used to tie him up, but by moving his wrists quickly, he was able to slacken them enough to get some flow back into his hands.

A noise outside the car startled him. Looking up, fearful that it was either of his kidnappers, his eyes widened when he saw who it was.

"Adam!" He shouted around the gag in his mouth.

Adam placed a finger to his lips and motioned for him to wait. He quietly opened the door and got to work cutting the bonds that held Randy.

"Maybe I should toss you off the roof!" Ace shouted

"Like you could... what the fuck?" Ace ran over to the car, Steele close behind when he'd seen what was going on.

Adam had just finished cutting the ropes that bound Randy's hands when he was grabbed by Ace and thrown to the concrete.

"Lookie here, we got ourselves a party-pooper!" Ace stood over Adam, evil radiating from him. "I guess we'll get ourselves some after all."

Adam had a good idea what 'some' meant, and he wasn't about to become just another victim. He kipped up and faced Ace.

"Lookit. Boy's got a set after all. Here I thought all Rasslers were pansies." Ace laughed "Keep an eye on our toy. Once I'm done with pretty-boy here, we'll take care of our problem."

"Got it."

Ace tossed his leather jacket on the trunk of the car, Adam shed his coat also and they faced off.

Ace swung first, rather clumsily, and Adam quickly dodged it. His punch was a little more accurate. Ace took a step back and looked angrily at the blond. "Nice... too bad it's the only shot you're gonna land." He charged.

Chris drove as fast as he could to get to where Jeff had been taken. The only thing keeping him alive was the quick-thinking of the waitress who'd alerted the paramedics as well as the doctor having his lunch in an adjacent booth.

"Drive!" Eric yelled when Chris had to stop for a red light.

"Eric, relax. It'll do no good if we get in an accident."

Eric could've cared less. He leaned back in the seat, and closed his eyes.

"Just chill. We'll be there in five minutes, ten at max." Chris patted Eric's shoulder for reassurance. "Take a deep breath."

Eric breathed slowly, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. Despite Chris' best efforts, he felt totally alone in the world. "God, please..............." he thought "don't take my Jeffro from me."

**To Be Continued**

_Coming up... more bloodshed, violence, and angst! Sorry for the delay, but I had a hard time figuring out where I wanted to go with this chapter... hope you like!_


	6. A Twist of Fate

All characters... does anyone even read these????????

A Twist of Fate

Ace and Adam circled each other, waiting for even the smallest of openings. The only blow that had landed was Adam's one punch. Other than that, just a lot of posturing and other semantics.

"This'll be fun. Once my bud has taken care of your friend, you're all ours. And this time, there's gonna be no one to save you... not your friend with the hair or his fuck-buddy or anyone else for that matter." Steele amused himself by repeatedly opening his knife and flicking it closed.

"You really don't know who you're messing with, do you?" Randy kept one eye on Adam and the other on Steele. "You can't mess with the WWE and get away with it. We took out Ted Turner and all his money... do you think we're gonna let a bunch of street punks bother us?"

"We'll see who has the last laugh." Steele chortled

The back of the car suddenly shook. Both men looked back; one in shock, and the other in awe. Ace's face was pressed against the now-shattered glass.

"Go get 'em, Adam!" Randy yelled

"Quiet, you!" Steele backhanded him.

They watched Adam drag Ace off the windshield and throw him to the concrete. Crouching, Adam waited a familiar look in his eyes.

"Get up you son of a bitch!" He yelled

Ace staggered to his feet. His eyes widened slightly when Adam charged at him, spearing him back to the floor. His head hit with a loud bang.

"This is for Jeff." He growled, dragging the barely-conscious punk to his feet. One Edge-cution later and Ace was out cold.

"Better do something, eh?" Randy taunted Steele, who looked extremely uncomfortable. Backing away from Randy, he stared at Adam, to Randy, then back. Adam grinned, taking a step closer. Ace wasn't moving.

"You ain't seen the last of me!" Steele ran from the parking structure.

"Now to finish the job." Adam picked up Ace's body.

"What are you gonna do to him?" Randy asked

"Get rid of the trash." Adam replied "Unless you'd like to do the honours?"

"Anytime, man." Randy slung Ace over the railing to the ground five floors below, but not before giving him an RKO for good measure. If Ace wasn't dead when he hit the ground, then he was five seconds later when a garbage truck ran over him. From where they were located, both Adam and Randy could hear the crunch of broken bones.

"Better book." They both stepped back when a crowd started to gather.

"Yeah. Murder is a crime, isn't it?"

"So I've heard." Adam and Randy quickly took off, only stopping to gather the evidence. By the time police arrived, there was nothing to be seen except an idling car with a broken windshield, a cast-off leather coat, and several bloodstains. Not a whole lot to go on, and once identification of the 'victim' was made, the police were even less interested in pursuing the matter. Though the sign "THREE DOWN. ONE TO GO!" might've given a clue, it was more like an "oh-well-one-less-punk-on-the-streets-let's-go-through-the-motions" kind of mentality by the officers assigned the case.

Anyway...

Randy and Adam ran several blocks before slowing.

"Thanks, man, I owe you." Randy panted

"Didn't we say we'd take care of you?" Adam heaved, leaning against the side of a building.

"Yeah. I owe you, Eric, and Jeff a lot." Randy replied "Oh, shit! How's Jeff?"

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Is he okay?"

"Sorry, I have no fucking idea what you are talking about." Adam replied

"You don't know? Those guys stabbed him in the restaurant before grabbing me!" Randy shouted

"What? Then why the hell are we standing here? Where'd they take him?"

"How should I know?" Now both Randy and Adam were yelling at each other.

"You've got Eric's number. Call him!"

"Oh, yeah, good idea." Adam hastily dialled.

"You've reached Eric..." Adam snapped it closed.

"Damn voice mail."

"Maybe they're already at the hospital?" Randy suggested hopefully.

"One way to find out." Adam started running again.

"I was afraid you'd say that." Randy followed.

"Where is he?" Eric yelled.

"Where is who?" The receptionist asked, remaining calm. This only irritated Eric further.

"My husband!" Eric shouted

"Eric, let me handle this." Chris guided him to a seat in the waiting area. Eric glared at him, almost daring him to make him sit. "Trust me."

"You better find out..." Eric whispered, noticeably shaking.

"Relax. I'll find out where he is from that assclown." Chris returned to the desk. "I apologize for my friend, but you must understand the situation."

The nurse smiled slightly.

"We're looking for a patient by the name of Jeffrey Nero Hardy. He was brought here with a serious stab wound. Any information you could possibly provide would be a great help." Chris turned on his charm. More often than not, it got him what he wanted. The odd time it didn't... well, that's for another time and place.

"I"ll see what I can find out." She replied "Would you wait with your friend?"

Chris returned to Eric, who was staring at the floor between his feet.

"She said she'll see what she can do."

"Thanks." Eric didn't even meet Chris' gaze.

"I don't mean to pry, but what exactly is goin' on?"

"Huh?" Eric still refused to look up.

"With you, Jeff, Edge, and Orton. I mean the four of you have been inseparable lately. I'm starting to feel left out."

Eric finally looked up. "I guess I owe you at least that..." He told Chris the entire story from the start.

"...I guess Adam is taking care of the other two right now. I just hope he left me a piece of one of them."

"What if I didn't?"

"Adam!" Eric jumped from his chair and into Edge's arms.

"Sorry I took so long."

Chris and Randy waited, embarrassed, for the hug to end. It seemed to last forever, and when the separated, both their eyes were wet.

"They won't tell me anything!" Eric pleaded

"I'm sure they will soon." Adam answered "Would you like some good news? One of our friends took a five story dive from the top of a parking garage."

Fortunately, the waiting area was practically deserted or someone might've taken his comment the right way.

"You know, guys, you really didn't have to do this." Randy added

"What do you mean 'we didn't have to do this'?" Eric retorted

"It was probably my own fault. For God's sake, I am married. I shouldn't be chasing after girls anymore."

"Randy, no one deserves to have happened to them what happened to you, no matter whose fault it was." Adam responded, looking sternly into his partner's eyes. "They did you wrong and we're gonna take care of it for you. ALL of it!" The look Adam was giving him convinced him that now was not a good time to try reasoning with either of them.

"I'm looking for the family of Jeffrey Hardy."

"Right here." Chris pointed to Eric. He quickly wiped his face, trying to appear calm as he faced the doctor.

"Would you like to discuss this privately or..."

Eric shook his head firmly. "These guys are the closest things to family Jeff and I got. Just talk."

"Okay. Things are not looking good right now. We've been able to stop the bleeding, but the knife punctured his right lung..."

"Fuck..." Adam muttered softly.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Chris asked the question on all their minds, but not coming out of any of their mouths.

"He is stable for the moment, but right now, we are playing the waiting game. We were able to sew up the puncture, but there were complications following surgery. We were forced to induce him..."

"What are you saying, doc? Is my husband gonna live or not?" Eric shouted

"Right now... it's fifty-fifty. He's in a coma right now... it was the only way we could stabilize him. When he comes out of it, if he comes out of it, we'll know for sure what his chances for a full recovery are."

Eric suddenly wished Kane were there. Maybe a tombstone piledriver would change his attitude. Eric always hated doctors and their God-complexes. Just because they held lives in their hands, it doesn't mean that they could play hell with people's emotions.

"Can I see him?" Eric barely got the words out, he was shaking so badly.

"I will have a nurse escort you to his room. Right now it is not a good idea for the patient to have a lot of visitors."

"The patient has a name." Eric gritted his teeth.

"Sorry?"

"I said I'm game."

"Please take a seat. Someone will be along shortly."

"Anyone want a snack or something?" Chris eyed the snack machines. No one replied, so he went over himself and made friends with the junk food.

Time crawled while Eric waited for his accompaniment. The only sound was Jericho stuffing his face with chips. Finally, Eric snapped.

"Can't you pig out a little quieter!" He hissed

"Sorry." Chris balked

Chris' apology, while sincere, did nothing to qualm Eric's rising anger. Finally, just when he figured that he couldn't take any more, he heard four of the most beautiful words ever...

"Mr. Hardy? This way."

"We'll be here when you get back." Adam promised

Eric followed the nurse to the intensive care unit. It was funny, Eric thought, that not so long ago his and Jeff's roles were reversed. Now it was up to him to be the strong force in their relationship, but he doubted that he'd be crawling into the bed with Jeff any time soon.

At the door, Eric took a deep breath.

"Are you going in?"

"In a minute, nurse." Eric breathed deeply again, trying not to go to pieces again. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Just try not to be too loud. I'll be down the hall if you need anything." Her heels clicking on the tile floor, she scuttled back to her station.

One more deep breath and Eric was ready. Well, he was as ready as he thought he was going to be. "Here goes." He stepped inside.

Back in the waiting room, the silence was deafening.

"Eric told me everything." Chris finally broke the quiet.

"Yeah?" Adam asked, wondering to himself why Eric would do something as jeopardizing as that. They'd agreed to keep what was going on strictly between the four of them.

"Yeah." Chris replied

More silence.

"So I was kinda wondering, y'know, if you needed an extra hand or somethin'..."

"You want a piece of this, do ya?" Adam replied

"Yeah, I do."

"You know how serious this is? This isn't like work... Jeff isn't going to miraculously wake up after the cameras go off!"

"There's one thing you haven't considered... or maybe you have, I don't know... but from what I know, if this last guy has any brains, he'll go after one of you again and with Jeff out of action, you need me!" Chris replied

"Jericho's got a point." Randy added

"Whatever."

"We'll talk later." Adam settled in his chair, his eyes closing. Randy was already dozing.

Chris waited, watching their chests rise and fall evenly. Soon, they were both asleep.

"I'll show you." Chris snuck past both Randy and Adam and hurried out the door. Unlike some of his coworkers, he read the newspapers and he had a good idea of who he was looking for. He wanted to tell them more about his connection to the case, but feared retribution. Not from the survivor, but from the guys themselves.

Outside the hospital, Chris used his cell phone to call a number he hadn't used in over a year and one he thought he'd never need again.

"Mike... it's me Chris... listen assclown, we got a problem! Your friends messed with the wrong guys. If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of town and fast."

Something intelligible from the receiver. Chris looked at his phone with disgust before putting it back to his ear.

"Don't fuckin' argue with me... if you want to see sunrise, you better do exactly what I say! Don't call me, I'll call you."

"This just got complicated." Chris tiptoed back into the waiting room.

"Where'd you go?" Randy wasn't asleep, Chris realized

"I needed some, um, air." He replied, hoping that his bullshit was believable.

"Oh." Randy said, "okay."

Chris retook his seat, trying to conceive a workable plan to save Mike as well as prove his loyalty. If Mike decided not to listen to him, and based on his past he probably wouldn't, both he and Chris were gonna be in tough.

"I wonder how Eric's doing?" He thought, falling into a dreamless sleep.

Not much better, as it turned out. Sitting on a chair beside the bed, he stared at his husband's motionless form.

"I really screwed up this time, didn't I?"

Eric looked into Jeff's tranquil face.

"C'mon, Jeffro. You gotta shake this thing, man." Eric felt his voice start to break. "Please... I know you're thinking about Matt and your mom but you got people here who love you too and want you back. I need you.... please don't leave me... " Eric collapsed in a heap, sobbing fiercely.

"Mr. Hardy," The nurse had returned "I'm sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours are almost over."

"Can't I...?"

"I wish I could, but the hospital has a strict policy about visitors." Eric believed her sincerity, but then again, he'd also believed in Santa Claus until he was ten.

"You can come back tomorrow."

Eric sniffed, gently kissing Jeff's hand. "I love you." He whispered. "I will." He said to the nurse, reluctantly returning to the waiting room. To his shock, Randy, Adam, and Chris were all zonked out. He stood for several seconds, waiting, before Randy finally opened one eye.

"Eric... you're back!"

"Yeah... visiting hours are over..." He tried to hide his disappointment. "...they kicked me out."

"Wake up, you two!" Randy hissed at the two sleeping blonds beside him. "We're going."

"Going? Where?" Adam yawned, stretching. Beside him, Chris also yawned.

"Nowhere. Just home. I need to think." Eric stated "Can I get a ride from someone?"

"Sure." Chris volunteered, much to Adam and Randy's chagrin.

"Let's go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Cool, man."

Eric and Chris left, leaving a confused Randy and Adam at the hospital. "What do you make of that?"

"He's stressed, Orton. I'm sure he'll be better tomorrow." Adam answered

The drive home was completely silent, save for the occasional sniffle from Eric. Several times, Chris wanted to talk to Eric; find out what his plans for the last member of the gang were, but he couldn't find the right words. Eventually, he gave up.

"Call me if you hear anything?"

Eric nodded. Nothing else to say, was there? Standing at his door, trying to find his key, Chris noticed how haggard he really looked. It was like he'd aged 20 years in the past day. And the annoying thing to Chris was he could've done something about it. What really burned him was Eric's lack of trust. After all the help he'd given Eric and Jeff over the past year, to not even be included in their little escapade... what kind of gratitude was that?

Reason taking over, he drove back to his hotel. He figured a nice hot shower would relax him. If that didn't work, maybe a little R and R with his favorite ring rat was sure to settle him.

The house looked so different without Jeff, Eric thought. He also thought of taking a shower, but soon, the thought of a nice warm bed overcame that. He lay on the bed without bothering to undress and waited for sleep to come.

His mind raced with evil thoughts, praying that he would get a chance for revenge. It was almost dawn when Eric finally fell asleep, and even then it was short, consisting mostly of visions of Jeff walking away from him, arm in arm with Matt... Team Extreme reunited once more.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_In case anyone is wondering, the ending I had planned for this novel has gone right out the window since I started writing this chapter! It might take a while for the next update, but I will try to get it to you ASAP!_

_Thanks for all the feedback... it is appreciated.  
_


	7. The Last Ride

The Last Ride

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall..." Tony Chimel bellowed "Currently in the ring, weighing two hundred thirty pounds, Lou Zir, Jr."

"This is a bad idea." Eric stated

"You've been saying that for days." Jericho sided up to him. "And we all agree", we referring to Edge, Randy, and himself, "that you need to do something to take your mind off of your troubles."

It had been close to a week since Jeff's stabbing. He was still in a medically-induced coma to allow his body a chance to heal. Eric had spent many hours at his bedside, hoping that he'd wake up. Even his doctors were starting to worry. He shouldn't have been unconscious for this long, Eric had been told on more than one occasion. He'd shouldered the load bravely as long as he could, but one day, someone had mentioned the words "vegetable" and "pull the plug". Though not in connection to Jeff, Eric had snapped.

Once Vince heard about an incident, he'd immediately ordered Eric into the ring, though no one was willing to be his opponent. Luckily, the feeder system, OVW, "fed" Vince one of their talent. Maybe his contract was almost up????

"And his opponent, now residing in Boston, Mass..."

Eric sprinted down the aisle, through his pyro, blew past the ring announcer and attacked Zir.

Closed fists, throat chops, and other illegal moves quickly ended the match, but Eric was not finished meting out punishment. Agents, referees, and other backstage personnel soon rushed the ring, but Eric refused to let up. It was a stalemate: every time someone got close to him, Eric tossed Zir, who was thankfully unconscious, aside and attacked him. The ring was filling up with bodies and it seemed that it could go on forever, until...

"No chance in hell..." The ominous music signalled the arrival of the chairman. Eric looked anxious... this wasn't in the script, but neither was what he'd spent the last ten minutes doing.

Seeing what was happening in the ring, Vince waited on the ramp.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He yelled

Eric looked at Vince, eyes narrowing. "Nothing." He mouthed.

From his reaction, Vince heard him, though he wasn't miked..

"Nothing!" He repeated "You call this nothing!"

Eric looked at the carnage in the ring, and shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

"Listen, I'm not going to tell you that I know what you're feeling, 'cause I don't." Seeing that Eric was off the warpath for the time being, Vince approached the ring. "But this..."

Eric tuned the rest of Vince's diatribe out. He was too busy thinking that the show had just started, and already the entire night was shot.

"...listening to me?"

Eric grabbed the mic from a shocked Vince. "No, I haven't!" he yelled "You are right... you don't know how I feel. Nobody around here knows how I feel! Seeing my husband lying in a hospital bed, tubes coming out of everywhere, and no one seems to know when or even if he'll wake up!

Vince swallowed.

"And what do you do? Order me into a match!" Eric shouted, getting right in Vince's grill. "This is all your fault!"

"Now wait a minute..."

"No, you wait a minute! Since there is no one in this whole fuckin' company that seems to give a shit about me and Jeff, I'm gonna save you the trouble... I quit!" Eric slammed the microphone into Vince's chest and stormed out of the ring.

"Get back here, Hardy!" Vince ordered. Eric replied with the Stone Cold salute.

Eric stopped backstage only long enough to grab his bag and punch out the coffee maker. "I don't need any of this!" He was out the back door and halfway to his car before someone caught up to him. The someone in question was John Cena.

"Yo, hold up!" He shouted

Eric made a big scene out of tossing his streetwear into the trunk. In his anger and haste to leave, he hadn't even bothered to change out of his tights.

"Don't fuckin' start with me, Cena unless you want some of what I dished out in the ring."

"Easy, easy, I was just gonna say that I'da done the same thing."

"Bullshit, Johnny. You'd never quit in a fit on anger. Hell, you're one of the company's biggest ass-kissers." Eric sneered "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am leaving!"

"The fuck you are." Cena stepped between Eric and the door. "Not until you've calmed down."

"I am calm." He lied

"Yeah. And I'm K-Fed." If John was trying to get Eric to laugh, it wasn't working. Eric felt more worked up than before. "Listen, you know how I deal with stress?"

"Yeah. You walk around the locker room naked. I may be a lot of things, but I ain't no exhibitionist."

"It works, though. So, unless you chill right the fuck out, I'm gonna start stripping." Cena kicked off his shoes, right to Eric.

"Yeah, right, we're right in the middle of the parking lot." Eric retorted.

"So?" Cena removed his socks, balled them up and threw them, hacky-sack style, toward Eric. Like the shoes, Eric batted it aside.

John's hat, shirt, and shorts soon followed.

"I should just tell you I'm chill so you'll stop making an ass of yourself."

"Are you?"

"No." Eric answered. It was not just so he'd see more of John naked... hell, the entire locker room had seen what Cena was carrying and a lucky few, Eric included, had seen it at attention. Something about a shower scene with Torrie or something like that had gone too far.

:"You asked for it." John quickly pushed his boxers down and off. He stood there, hands on hips, wearing nothing but a grey thong.

"This is turning into a fraternity porn flick."

"And you're the evil head master." John replied

Eric rolled his eyes at the almost-nude number one contender. "Your little show notwithstanding, I am going home!" He shouldered past Cena, and into his Viper.

"Then so am I!" Even though his gear was still in the locker room, and his character clothes were scattered across the pavement, John jumped in beside Eric.

"Not like that, you're not!"

"Yeah, you're right." Cena agreed.

"Finally we're on the same... what the hell are you doing?"

John had peeled off his thong and was waving it in front of Eric's face.

"Get that thing away from me!" Eric batted it aside.

"Anything you say." John tossed it over the side. He was now completely naked, except for his wrist guards.

"I am not driving anywhere with you looking like that! For God's sake, I'm married!"

"Whatever." Cena leaned back in the seat, arms behind his head.

"Get out!" Eric tried to stop his hands from shaking.

"Make me!"

"Fine!" Eric reached down between Cena's legs and squeezed.

He'd hoped for some sort of reaction from Cena, like a "What the fuck?" or something like that. Hell, he would've been happy if Cena had taken a swing at him. What he didn't expect was a gasp, almost like he'd been hoping for that kind of reaction.

"Don't tell me you're one too?" Eric was starting to wonder if anyone in the company was straight anymore.

"Dude, if it'll help you relax, I'll be whatever you want me to be." John looked down at his member, which had started to twitch.

First Adam, and now John. I'm turning into the company slut, Eric thought.

"John... I can't." Eric turned away.

"Can't what?"

"This." Eric pointed to Cena's dick, now fully erect. "I mean I want to, but..."

"Do you consider the five fingers cheating???" John asked

"No. If it was, I'd be paying alimony until the Rapture. But what does that have to do with my problems?"

"Nothing. Just sit back and enjoy the show." John spit into his hand and gripped himself.

Eric watched and found that, as he focused on what John was doing, he forgot his other problems for the moment and the murderous rage that had consumed him was slowly dissipating. His ragged breathing also slowed down. Usually, watching stuff like this got him worked up, but tonight it was having the opposite effect.

"You look like you're chillin' now." John said

"It is sorta hypnotic." Eric replied

"Cool. 'Coz I go no much longer without... y'know... popping my cork."

"Then stop."

"Can't..." Cena quickened his pace.

"Then don't mess my upholstery." Eric got out of the car and gathered Cena's gear. He found everything except the thong.

"Here. You'll need these." Eric cocked his head at John, who was looking sheepish, a spray of white fluid covering his chest and abs.

"Sorry, dude, I couldn't..."

"Uh huh... Wet Wipes are in the glove box." Eric waited for Cena to clean and re-clothe himself.

"Did it help?"

Eric thought. He sure felt calmer, more relaxed than he had in days, but now he was nagged by feelings of guilt. Without getting too specific, he'd probably have to tell Jeff about this indiscretion.

"Enough, but not enough for me to go back to ask for my job back." He replied

John looked pleased. "Anything for a friend."

"I do have to go." Eric never was much for after-sex talk. Usually, five minutes after he and Jeff concluded their lovemaking, one or both of them was already asleep.

"Whatever." John got out and leaned over the door. "I'm sure I'll see you around."

"If not, whatever." Eric backed up and floored it out of the lot. His next stop, the hospital.

Eric spent the rest of the night the same way he'd spent most of the past week... in the waiting room at the hospital. After the first night, he didn't want to face what might happen alone. Usually he ended up crashed out on one of the chairs, and the second visiting hours began, he was at Jeff's side. He settled down for another sleepless night.

"Hey, Eric. I thought I'd find you here." It was Jericho.

"Where else would I be?"

"No need to rip me a new one. I'm not the enemy. Mind?"

"Only if you chow quietly."

"Any news?" Chris demanded

Eric shook his head sadly. "Not a word. He's still in the coma."

Chris took a second to digest this. "Can I ask you something?"

"As long as you keep your clothes on." Eric smirked

"Oh-kay... I won't ask. If you had to choose between family and friends, who would ya pick?"

Eric pondered the idea. "Depends on why I'd have to pick."

"Say there was a situation involving a friend of yours, and you knew some information that might help, but if you told him or her, it would fuck up your family, would you do it?"

"I guess it would all hang on how much I cared about all the individuals involved."

Chris paused.

"Are you just asking in the abstract, or is there a specific person that this applies to?"

"Just wond'rin. Can't blame a guy for askin' opinions, eh?"

"I'm glad I could help... I think." Eric sighed "But if I were in the shoes of this hypothetical person, without knowing the specific dynamics, I go with my blood. Bro's before ho's, right?"

"Thanks for the advice..."

"Any time." Eric responded, staring at the TV. A rerun of "Everybody Loves Raymond" was on. One of the many shows Eric despised.

""I'll talk to you later." Chris stood up to leave.

"Doubt it." Eric snickered "What happened tonight wasn't a shoot, Chris. I'm finished with the WWE."

"Heard that before." Chris mumbled, walking out the door. Eric didn't hear that bit, fortunately.

Sliding behind the wheel of his rental car, Chris turned on the radio. "Okay, you can sit up now."

A familiar face appeared. "What'd he say?"

"Your secret is safe for now. He told me that he would've chosen family."

"Thanks, bro."

"Half-brother, Mike. Don't make our relationship any closer than it is. And it beats the shit outta me why I am doing this for you." Chris stated

"I didn't ask for your help!" Mike responded

"Yeah, but if I hadn't warned you, you'd be like your buddies. Stabbed to death or crushed under a garbage truck. Do you want that?"

"Don't blame me, brother. I didn't know what Blade had planned. We were just gonna mess him up a little."

"I don't believe you." Chris responded "And I am not gonna bail you out ever again. The next time you fuck up, it's on your head. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

"Now get outta my car!"

Mike got out, looking more like a freshman on the first day of high school rather than a street tough.

"Just lay low."

Mike ran across the parking lot and down the street. Once he was out of sight, Chris drove out the other way, mumbling all the way back to the airport. If Mike could stay out of sight until they had to leave for their next show, maybe he'd be alright. For his sake, Chris hoped so.

Like many others, Eric slept that night in the waiting room. The moment visiting hours began, he returned to Jeff's side. The days seemed to blend together. There was never any change, but Eric vowed to stay as long as it took.

This morning was different, though. Eric could feel something was 'off'. The hospital staff seemed to be looking at him differently. He hoped it was because of his appearance.

When he entered the room, it was apparent that his appearance was not the cause of the change in atmosphere. For one thing, Jeff's bed was empty.

Eric's first thought was that he'd entered the wrong room, but a quick check of the door confirmed his location. "Uh, nurse, did they move him?"

"Sir?"

"Jeff Hardy?"

"Uh, I think you'd better talk to his doctor. Page Doctor Cartwright."

"Can you at least tell me why he was moved and no one bothered to tell me. Dammit, I was in the waiting room all night!"

"I think it would be better if you waited for his doctor. He knows more than I do about the case."

"Can you at least tell me if he's still alive?" Eric demanded

"Dr. Cartwright will be along in a few minutes. He's the one to talk to."

Eric waited... and waited... and waited... and waited... it was almost an hour before someone came to talk to him.

"Eric... Eric Hardy?"

"Here." Eric croaked, his mouth feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton.

"Dr. Cartwright is in a marathon surgery right now. He asked me to talk to you."

"Well?"

"I think it would be better to talk in my office. Will you follow me? I have some bad news."

**TO BE CONTNUED**

_Things are about to get serious for all parties involved. But you'll have to stay tuned to see how it turns out! I'm still writing by the seat of the pants right now. My original scriptment is now confetti so I hope you're enjoying this. _

_Again, any and all feedback is appreciated!  
_


	8. It Can't Rain All The Time

It Can't Rain All The Time

Adam and Randy stood in Vince's office. The last time they'd been so assembled was to be informed that team Rated RKO was being disbanded.

"You got the feeling we're being dipped in it?" Adam whispered

"Probably. Let me do most of the talking." Randy replied

"Fine with me."

At the same time, Eric was facing his own inquisition. Other than the intern, the only other person in the office was Gil.

"So, what you're saying is that there's no chance for my boy to recover."

"No, what I said is there is no chance for a full recovery. There is always a chance he will regain partial motor function. But, since we don't even understand why he's not conscious right now, any diagnosis is mere speculation at this point."

"Then why are we here?" Eric demanded

"Right now, Jeffery is being kept alive by artificial means. His EEG shows very little brain activity. We need to know what you want to do. Do you want him kept alive artificially or...?"

"This isn't happening!" Eric thought "Who has power of attorney?"

"Both of us. It is quite unusual, but I guess he didn't want a unilateral decision made."

It made sense, based on what Jeff had told Eric about the circumstances surrounding the termination of Matt's life support.

"What if we can't agree?" Gil asked

"If you are unable to reach consensus, we will continue the current course of treatment."

"Well, he's your son."

"He's YOUR husband."

"I'll leave you two to discuss this. Jeffrey has been moved to the chronic care ward. A nurse will show you the way if you wish."

"...you told me returning to action was a good idea! Now I've got a possible lawsuit on my hands!"

"Vince, we didn't know." Randy finally got a word in.

"And what the hell is up with you guys anyway? One day, the four of you are at each other's throats, the next you're all buddy-buddy."

"Shit happens." Adam answered

"And you two are experts in that. What I really need is a straight answer: was Eric serious... is he through? 'Cause if he is finished with the company, I need to know..."

"Why don't you ask him? RKO is not a messenger service."

"In case you don't remember, Eric is not real reliable when it comes to returning messages. I hope you two can find out for me."

Gil and Eric walked the hall in silence, trailing behind the floor nurse. Whatever she was saying regarding Jeff's appearance, neither man heard. Both of them, in their own minds, were thinking almost the same thing. Gil had already made this decision for his oldest son, and didn't know if he could do it again. Eric, on the other hand, was trying to put this into perspective for himself... if he were Jeff, what would he want? Should he keep Jeff alive just to satisfy his own needs?

"Go ahead, Gil. I'm not ready to see him like this." Eric sighed, feeling his emotions just below the surface.

Nodding an understanding, Gil left Eric alone while he went to his son's bedside. Eric wasn't alone for long, though. Turning away from the door, he smacked into the large chest on the Undertaker.

"Hey, Mark."

"How's the kid doin'?" For a big guy, Mark could sure sneak around when he had to, or when people are least expecting it.

"Not good." Eric answered "Jeff gave Gil and I power of attorney, but I dunno what to do. I need him, but... but..." Eric's voice cracked.

"You don't want to put him through more pain just to keep him around." Mark finished

"Yeah. Exactly. Is there anyway you can tombstone me hard enough so I'll wake up from this bad dream?"

"I wish I could, man, but this ain't no dream."

"I know that too. If it was a dream, you'd be the last person I'd picture visiting."

"Jeff and I had our moments."

"I remember." Eric recalled watching the ladder match on TV. "Even though Jeff phoned it in."

Mark nodded.

"If you want to go see him, I'm not stoppin' you. Gil's already with him."

"You sure?"

"Maybe Jeff needs someone else around. He's probably sick of hearing me bawl over him."

Mark moved toward the door. "You comin'?"

"I'm not ready. I'm trying to be impartial, but if I see him now, there's no way I can be." Eric sat on a nearby bench. "Just try not to give Gil a heart attack."

"No promises, Hardy."

Leaning against a wall, Eric was once more overcome by his emotions. The harder he tried to keep it together, the faster he fell apart until he was once more sobbing uncontrollably.

At the airport, Chris was trying to relax a little before boarding his flight. Despite his offer of being an extra set of hands, what he really wanted to do was get away from it. He was torn between family and his co-workers, and even though Eric had said he'd choose family, Chris was still fence-sitting. It might've been an easy decision six months or a year ago, but ever since the death of Mike's natural mother, Chris had taken care of him whenever possible. He'd tried to steer him clear of the drinking, the drugs, and the gangs, but being away for long stretches made it impossible to keep an eye on him twenty-four/seven.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the last thing he needed right then... not only was Mike in the airport, but he was heading right for him.

"Fuck." Chris whispered

"Hiya, bro!" He said, loud enough for the entire lounge to hear.

"Quiet! For someone who's supposed to be incognito, you sure are makng yourself known."

"I thought you'd be glad to see me." Mike feigned a sulk, which infuriated Chris even more.

"Listen, my ass is already on the line here. If the wrong person sees us talking, there'll be no chance for either of us. Of all the people on the planet to pick on, you chose one of my friends! What the fuck were you guys thinking?"

"I told you... if I'd refused to go along with it, Blade woulda killed me on the spot! C'mon, Chris, you gotta take me with you... get me outta here! I promise I'll be good!"

"How? Two of the guys who want you dead are gonna be on the same flight. There's no way I can protect you. Just stay low, wait until we're out of town, and then I'll send for you. Trust me, it's the only way..."

"What is it?"

"Remember when I talked about the wrong person seeing us... well, they just did."

Although they had 'promised' Vince that they would talk to Eric, both Randy and Adam agreed that right now, he needed to be left alone to deal with his grief.

"We'll talk to Eric tomorrow. Who knows, maybe he'll have some good news?" Randy queried

"Works for me. I"m pretty sure I know what his response is gonna be... holy shit! Hey, isn't that..." Adam pointed

"Yeah! That motherfucker is mine!" Randy sprinted across the concourse, Adam in hot pursuit.

"You've been made." Chris moaned

"Shit!"

"The best thing is to stay with me." Chris positioned himself between his half-brother and the two angry wrestlers.

"Good job, Jericho! You found the son-of-a-bitch!" Randy menaced. Mike shrunk behind Y2J.

"Uh, not exactly..." Chris replied

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Adam demanded

"I got something to get off my chest before you two go Gung-Ho on Mike..."

"Mike? How do you know this scumbag?" Randy growled

"Randy, calm down. Let me explain..."

"The only thing you should be explaining is why you haven't wasted him. I thought you were on our side?"

"I know what I said, and I am, but this scumbag, as you call him, happens to be my brother."

"Bullshit, Jericho. The only thing he is... is mine!" Randy took a step closer.

Eric sat in the hallway, waiting for the right time to go in. When that would be was not clear, but maybe once all his co-workers stopped coming by, he could have some (semi-) private time with Jeff. Though it looked like that might not happen. Every five minutes, someone else from the 'office' came along. Everyone from Hunter and Mark down to PA's wanted to see Jeff. And everyone had to say something to Eric. He kept a brave face, but inside he wanted the pain to go away by any means necessary.

It was an unlikely source that finally broke through the funk.

"Is this the line?"

"Nah, you can go in anytime. I think Shannon's in there right now, but I've given up trying to keep track."

"Mm. I'll sit here, then..." Charlie sat. "Everyone trying to be your friend today, eh?"

"Charlie, no offense, but I don't need any more sympathy right now." Eric briskly massaged his temples, wondering if he looked as haggard on the outside as he felt on the inside.

"True dat. And I'm not gonna tell ya that I know what you're going through, even though I do..."

Eric looked over, wondering where Charlie was going with this.

"But if you wan't to step away from everyone... your clique... gimme a call."

"Charlie passed a card on which he'd scribbled his home and cell numbers. "If I'm not home, Jackie'll pass a message." And just like that, he was gone.

"Thanks for the offer, Charlie, but Cena already tried." Eric did not shred the card, even though he had no intention of ever using the offered help. He just stared blankly at the wall across from him before, with an audible sigh, finally entering the small room.

"Can you please look at this objectively?" Chris begged. Adam was holding Randy back, barely, and if Mike had been smart, he would've booked, but he remained rooted. "Don't you think enough is enough?"

"Enough? It wasn't enough when he and his buddies used me like a ten-dollar hooker! I still have fuckin' nightmares, I can't enjoy relations with my wife, and you tell me enough is enough. It will never be enough!"

"Randy, calm down. You're creating a scene."

"So? Here I thought you were on our side, but I guess that's something else I was wrong about." Randy towered over Chris, after ripping free from Adam's grip. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pound both of you into a pulp."

"I dunno, really, but maybe you care about me?"

"What's that got to do with that sack of shit you're protecting?"

"I don't expect you to understand, or hell, even believe me..."

"Spit it out, Chris! We've got a flight to catch!" Adam was becoming frustrated with Jericho's evasiveness.

"I promised our mother I'd watch out for him. I didn't do such a good job, I guess."

"I'll say." Randy said

"Flight one-six-seven to New York City is now pre-boarding. All first-class and special needs passengers may now board at gate seven."

Giving him a "we'll talk later" look, Randy and Adam headed for the gate.

"I gotta go too, bro." Chris stated "I'll only be gone for a day or two. Just promise me you won't get into any trouble while I'm gone, okay?"

'You can count on me." Mike answered

"I'm serious. I'll talk to Randy and Adam. Maybe once they know the whole story, things will be okay." Chris detested the idea of leaving his brother alone right then, but his hands were tied.

"What if that doesn't work?" Mike asked

"Let's jump off that bridge when we come to it." Chris shouldered his carry-on. "Laterz."

As he had every day for the past week, Eric spent many hours with Jeff. He'd tried everything, hoping that a miracle would occur. Every day the result was the same and every night, Eric arrived home exhausted but couldn't sleep for long periods. When he did doze, he had the same dreams time and time again. He was at the end of his tether, apparently so was Gilbert.

"Eric, can we talk?" He whispered

"Sure." Eric straightened.

"Alone." It sounded like bad news.

"Whatever." Eric followed him into the small bathroom.

"How are you holding up?" He asked

"Alright, I guess." Eric was surprised at the sudden interest. He'd never been real close with his father-in-law, but desperate times call for desperate connections.

"Better than I'm doing." Gilbert answered "I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm an old man and my heart just ain't what it used to be."

"If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, you can forget it!" Eric knew where this was doing. He'd suspected Gil was going to try something since the day after. Even though he'd flip-flopped on this scenario for days, having someone else suggest it irritated him.

"Look, can you take care of him when or if he wakes up? Do you have the money to keep him here, hooked up to all these... machines???" Gil scrunched up his face.

"I can and I do." Eric lied. Between the mortgage, car payments, and other bills he'd neglected since college, he barely had enough to make ends meet, but no way was he letting Jeff's dad know this.

"Just think it over. Do you think Jeff wants to be kept alive like this? That's why he gave me power of attorney."

"Us." Eric corrected "And he did it because he didn't want someone to make a unilateral decision ."

"I know he still blames me for that." Gil averted his gaze. Eric knew he'd hit a nerve.

"Yeah, he does. Do you know how many nights he cried himself to sleep in my bed, and it wasn't because he missed Matt. It was because he never had a chance to say goodbye to him before you pulled the plug!" Eric felt his temperature rise.

"Eric why didn't...?"

"I don't know." Eric stated "And right now, it's a moot point. The point is, you still have a son, I still have a husband, and until the doctor tells me that there is no chance Jeff will wake up, I'm not signing anything. Do we have agreement?"

Gil mumbled something that could either be a yes or a comment regarding Eric's sexual habits.

"I will assume that is a yes. Now, I'm going to get something to eat. If the doctor returns while I am out, have me paged."

Eric stormed from the room. Gil stood beside the bed for a few moments before also leaving the room. His destination was the nurses' station.

"Could you tell Dr. Cartwright that we've made a decision."

"Certainly. Where will you...?"

"I'll be with my son." Gil returned to where Jeff lay, sleeping peacefully. He brushed a few random strands of blue hair from his forehead and kissed it gently.

"I'm sorry."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_Uh-oh! Is Gil gonna do what I think he is? You'll have to wait to find out. To my fans, thanks for the support!_


	9. Tombstone

Tombstone!!!

The flight from Boston to New York was only a couple of hours, but to the three wrestlers it seemed much longer than that. Randy and Adam were still feeling betrayed by their former friend and spent most of the flight trying to forget what had happened earlier. It wasn't that easy, given that Chris was sitting right across the aisle from them. He, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get there so he could call Mike and make sure he was still alive.

Eric sat in the cafeteria, picking at a plate of food. He didn't feel much like eating, even though he hadn't had a whole lot of sustenance in the past 48 hours. His mind was going in eighty different directions at once, and he felt like he was spinning out of control. When he crashed, he knew it wouldn't be good. He just hoped that it would be soon.

"Eric... Eric Hardy?"

Eric looked toward the voice. It was the nurse from the floor.

"I'm glad I found you."

"Well, you did." Eric returned his stare to the plate of food.

"I just wanted to say that I applaud your decision. God knows, I could never make one like that if it were my husband..."

Eric was confused. Had he made a decision??? Moreover, had he forgotten that he'd made one?

"Excuse me?"

"Your husband. His father said that you two had..."

"That asshole!" Eric ran out of the cafeteria, past the shocked nurse and into the corridor. Looking like a wild man, he ran up the six flights of stairs, and toward Jeff's room, praying that he wasn't too late.

When he burst through the door, panting loudly, he knew that he was too late.

"There. It's done." The doctor said, disconnecting the ventilator.

"What... the... hell... is... going... on?" Eric gasped

"It will all be over soon." Dr. Cartwright addressed Gil.

"Thank-you doctor."

"Hey, just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eric yelled

Cartwright looked a little concerned. "I was informed that you two had reached an agreement and wished to terminate the life support immediately."

"What!!! I never signed anything!!" Eric glared at Gil.

"Eric, it's for the best." Gil whispered

"You callous bastard!" Eric's eyes narrowed and he punched Gilbert, knocking the old man into a corner. "Fuck!"

"Well, what are you doing standing there! Plug him back in!"

"I wish it were that easy. But..."

"But what?"

"Don't you see?"

Eric looked. If there was something to be seen, he was missing it.

"Clue me in, doc?"

"He's breathing on his own again."

Eric blinked the tears away and watched Jeff's chest rise and fall evenly.

"Nurse, can you take Mr. Hardy to exam one." Whether the doctor actually thought Gil needed medical attention or he wanted to give Eric some alone time, it didn't matter.

"Right away."

"The next twenty-four hours are crucial. He's not out of the woods yet." Cartwright followed the nurse and a semi-coherent Gil, muttering something about assault, leaving Eric alone with Jeff.

Eric reached over the rail, gripping Jeff's hand in his own. "I don't care what I have to do... just come back to me... please?"

Chris went off on his own the second the plane touched down. He liked to think of himself as "Mr. Popular" with both the fans and the boys in the back, but right now he felt as alone as ever. He went through the motions of getting ready for his match that night, as well as a forced interview with John Cena on "The Highlight Reel". But, ask him, and he would preferred voluntary amputation to work that night.

"That was the worst interview you've ever done!"

"I'm sorry, but I got real problems elsewhere right now. If I wasn't such a company man, I would've called in sick." Chris grumbled

"Worried about Jeff too, huh?" The entire locker room had hoped for some news before they left Boston, but as far they knew, nothing had changed.

"Yeah." Chris sat on one of the nearby packing crates. "I feel so..."

"Helpless?" Cena finished

"Something like that."

Adam and Randy passed by, chatting about their tag match later on. The writers' had been working overtime to compensate for Eric's departure. Not known to him, the office had planned to push Eric over the next few months, culminating in a U.S. title match. Having to now fill a huge void in the programming, they quickly threw team Rated RKO back together.

"Heard anything?" Cena asked

"Sorry, Cena. Nothin'." Randy answered

"Yeah." Adam agreed

"Oh."

"Anyway, we got a match. Later." Without so much as acknowledgement of Chris' presence, they walked into the changing areas.

"You three had a fight?" John had noticed the tension.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay... you know where I am if you change your mind."

"I know. But you better not even take a shoe off or I'll knock your teeth out."

John was unsure if Chris was serious or not. "How did you...?"

"I stepped out for a bit of air."

"Oh." John turned beet red.

"Don 't worry. No one else knows that you were willing to go gay for Eric to make him feel better." Chris smiled "And I ain't telling anyone, either."

John exhaled, relieved. Looking to his left and right, he whispered. "I'd do the same for you, too."

"Thanks, but I don't need an excuse to see you naked." Chris winked.

"My hotel room or yours?"

They both laughed, Chris' temporarily forgetting his troubles. Also forgetting that he should check in with Mike. He hoped that the kid had half the brains God gave a shoe and would stay on the down low, but right now he wondered if John would help him. For a straight guy, he sure was having weird thoughts lately.

"Mine." Chris got up, leaving a slack-jawed Cena. "Midnight."

Mike needed a place to crash and fast. Despite his half-bro and the others leaving on a jet place, he knew they would return soon and after that, it was fair game. All his old haunts were shot. Maybe if he were in a crowd of people, it wouldn't be so bad. And what were the odds they would look for him in the most obvious place of all? It was this type of logic that often times got him into trouble, but what the hey? Since the gang was no longer, Mike decided that he didn't need the colours anymore. Ditching the leather in a dumpster was as close to a disguise as he felt he needed.

Phil's was packed. It was their retro night and apparently it was the last night for this particular DJ. It wasn't his music, or his crowd, but it was half price beer night. He squeezed his way to the bar and ordered a drink. It was shoulder to shoulder on the dance floor so Mike just stood at the bar and tried to look like he belonged.

"Rye and ginger." Someone Mike had never seen before squished his way in.

Mike sized up this guy while he waited for his drink. He looked about Mike's age, dressed in a beat up leather Jacket, aviator shades and jeans three sizes too small.

"What you lookin' at?"

"Sorry, dude." Mike apologized "I didn't realize I was staring." He still had to remind himself that he longer had the rest of his gang to rely on. It was time to stand on his own two feet, whether he wanted to or not.

"Cool. Name's Joe."

"Mike, people call me Steele though."

"Nice. First time here?"

"Yeah. It's normally not my scene. I'm more of the metal/punk/rave type guy." Mike sipped his beer, trying to figure Joe out. From his look, his first guess was that he belonged to a rival gang, but it didn't fit. Why come to a bar that was a notorious hangout for one gang if you belonged to another???

"This is the only night I come out. Less chance of getting shanked." Joe leaned against the bar, looking at the dance floor, watching several pieces of barely-legal shake their cosmic things to the B-52's.

Mike nodded, feeling uneasy. Had he been made?

"It's time, Mr. Hardy."

"Already?" Eric feigned surprise. It was part of a game they played every night. The nurse would come in and tell him it was time to leave and Eric would try to buy some more time with Jeff.

She smiled. "You have ten minutes while I check his charts."

"Can you take your time?"

"I'll try." She replied "In case you were wondering, the guy you slugged is doing fine. He thinks he passed out and we haven't told him what really happened. Yet."

"And you won't if I continue to be a good boy, right?"

"Whatever you say."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Take care, Jeff... I love you."

For the first time in days, Eric left the hospital feeling happy. He wanted to be around people and have a good time rather than brood by himself. Ironically, the closest hangout was the same bar where he'd first encountered the former gang of four.

"What's the worst that can happen?" He thought

He recognized the one doorman as the same guy he'd talked to earlier.

"Evening." He said, then whispered "One of your friends is here. He's standing at the bar. Just warning you."

Eric nodded understanding. It took a minute for his eyes to acclimatize themselves to the darkness inside, but as soon as they did he saw whom the bouncer had been referring to. He didn't recognize the guy with whom he was talking, but based on the body language, he assumed that he wasn't one of the gang. What he was doing with Mike is best left to the imagination. (Or Imagi-Nation if you will!)

"Oh, well," Eric thought "I've had a good life." Sticking his hands into his pockets, he was comforted by the feel of steel in the left. If this other guy was indeed a friend of the punk he was looking for, hell would have a couple more bodies before the night was out. Assuming, Eric had his way and usually, he did.

He was three feet behind him, when a new song began...

You are an obsession, I cannot sleep

I am a possession unopened at your feet

There is no balance, no equality

Be still I will not accept defeat

"Let's dance." Joe grabbed Mike and bodily took him to the floor. Eric recognized the song from the opening beats and laughed. Eric laughed even louder, almost giving himself away, when Joe, for lack of a better term, started ripping the clothes off of him.

I will have you, yes I will have you

I will find a way and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me

"What the...."

Eric used the distraction to sneak up on a now-shirtless Mike, who seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much. Eric nodded at Joe, who stepped back.

"Where you off to?" Mike asked.

"It's more like where you are off to, asshole." Eric grabbed Mike around the throat and quickly gutted him. With the mass of gyrating flesh, nobody noticed one of the partiers suddenly collapse, bleeding profusely.

"My work is done." Eric was halfway out the bar when he was grabbed. It was Joe, the guy Mike had been "dancing" with.

"You got a problem?" Eric demanded

"No. I don't have a problem... that was cool... I've never seen that before..."

Eric quickly flashed a couple Benjamins. "And you've never seen it now, either."

"One question..."

"If you make it fast..." Eric glanced over his shoulder. Nobody had noticed the body on the dance floor yet. How long until someone stepped in it was unknown, but Eric definitely wanted to be elsewhere by then.

"How does it feel? I've always wanted to know."

"Compared to how he feels, it feels awesome. Anyway, I gotta split."

"Cool. Thanks for the money. I'll go buy some drinks, hopefully that'll buy you some time."

"Thanks."

"See you around?" Eric didn't wait for an answer. He was out the door in a flash.

Joe walked back to the bar and was in the middle of ordering another drink when he heard a scream from the dance floor area.

"I guess somebody stepped in it." He thought "I'll have another."

Eric couldn't help feeling a little jumpy on the way back to his house. He just made it inside before the excitement wore off and he started shivering.

"I guess I better let Randy know." He said through chattering teeth.

To his disappointment, he only got Randy's voice mail.

"I got good news and great news. Good news: Jeff is breathing on his own. The great news... mission accomplished. Talk to you later."

"What does he mean 'mission accomplished'?" Randy asked. Several hours had passed since Eric had left the cryptic message.

"Maybe he means that he took care of... oh shit!" Adam exclaimed

"What?" Randy asked

"Eric didn't know! We never told him about Chris' connection!" he groaned

"What do we do?"

"Nothing." Adam whispered "And we sure as hell don't tell Chris."

"Tell me what?"

"I guess we can tell you." Randy stated "We just talked to Eric. Jeff's breathing on his own again."

"Awesome!" Chris replied

"Yeah, we're catching the next flight back. You wanna come?"

"Thanks, but I got a date." Chris smirked. At least he hoped he did.

"Okay, we'll talk to you later." Adam and Randy left the arena.

They waited until they were in Adam's rental car, heading back to the airport, before they even said a word.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For all your help. You, Eric, Jeff. I never would've gotten through this without you." Randy smiled for the first time in days.

"We're not out of the woods yet. I hope that we have enough time to settle this before Chris finds out what happened. I can't believe we were that dumb not to tell Eric."

"Tell him what? It's not like we agreed not to hurt the bastard. If anything, he deserved it. Now let's get our asses back to Boston A-sap."

"Yes, sir." Adam put the car in reverse and they were soon on their way.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_Almost home... is Jeff out of the woods yet? Will Chris find out? Will Eric get away with it? These questions and more will be answered in the next chapter._

_Song: "Obsession:" by Animotion copyright 1984_

_Thanks to all those of you who have reviewed my work so far. I appreciate all the feedback. A special thanks to my brother without whom I couldn't have finished this chapter.  
_


	10. FU, Jericho!

FU, Jericho!

It was almost midnight and Chris was humming his theme song in the bathroom while he styled his hair. The God's honest truth was he wasn't sure if Cena was gonna take him seriously or not, but he sure as hell was gonna have some fun finding out. Time away from family can make even the most jaded person long for a connection, even if it is with someone of the same gender.

Three floors down, John Cena was doing the same thing. Unlike Jericho, he was secure enough in his sexuality to have fun with anyone, whether it be male or female. That's why he felt no guilt over anything he'd ever done, whether it be the performance for Eric or the night he spent with Edge shortly after his second marriage fell apart. To him, it was all about being there for someone in every way a friend should.

After finishing with his hair, Chris looked at his luggage, debating on whether he should actually get dressed. In the end, logic won out over his libido. Logic dictated that he shouldn't seem too eager; he might end up turning Cena off while his libido suggested that he answer the door naked and hope for the best.

Five minutes to midnight. Chris looked around the room. He mentally checked off the booze, snacks, and the extras which were hidden in his carry-on bag. Again, no sense seeming too anxious to get going. He had all night, and he hoped John did as well.

At precisely twelve, there was a discreet knock on Chris' door.

"Here goes." Willing his heart to slow a little, he peeked through the door.

"Right on time. I like a guy who's punctual."

"Yeah, bro. I see you're ready for a long night." Cena took in the food and drink that were laid out on a nearby table.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be hungry or not." Chris tried to seem indifferent, but the fact that John was standing in his doorway was intoxicating in itself.

"Whatever. May I come in before someone sees me?"

"Sorry. Where are my manners?"

John strolled in. Chris took a long look at him. No matter what the weather, Cena always seemed to be dressed the same. In fact, the only time Chris had seen Cena not wearing 'character clothes' is at the annual Hall of Fame induction ceremony. As usual, he wore a throwback jersey, his jean shorts, and red high-tops.

"Wanna a drink?" Chris offered

"Sure." John replied

"Good start." Chris thought "Just don't seem too ready."

While Chris was having fun, Randy and Adam also dealing with feelings of anxiousness. And it had nothing to do with cruising miles overhead during a thunderstorm.

"I'm waiting for suggestions." Randy whispered, gripping the armrests tightly.

"I'm a little busy right now." Adam answered from the depths of the airsickness bag.

The plane suddenly rolled right, Adam heaved into the sack. Randy grimaced, holding on to the chair for life.

"When I'm done barfing, we'll talk."

"When will that be?"

"The plane pitched to the left. Randy heard a now familiar sound from his travelling companion. "Dunno... erp!"

Several hours later...

"Pass me another one." Cena drawled

"Last one." Chris passed over the last of the small bottles from his mini-bar.

"Damn... if I could stand, I'd go to my room and grab some more." Both Cena and Jericho were not completely drunk, but buzzed enough that staying in the room was a better choice.

"Oh well..." Chris watched while John tipped the bottle back and emptied it in one swig.

"Now what?"

"Wanna have some fun?" Chris asked, hoping for a positive reply from Cena. For the last five hours, they'd spent pounding down drinks and scarfing snacks, but neither of them had discussed the reason for hooking up. Chris was serious, he hoped John was as well.

"What'd you wanna do?" Cena's eyes flicked toward his groin, then Jericho's.

"Depends." Chris smiled.

"I guess I should take my clothes off then." John pulled his shirt up.

"Let's make this interesting." Chris grabbed a deck of cards from the bedside table.

"It's gotta be easy. I don't think I can take any thinking right now."

"Okay. We draw a card. If it's a face card, we take off an article of clothing. Whoever is naked first loses." Chris smiled evilly.

"Shuffle up and deal." John climbed onto Chris' bed.

Meanwhile, Eric was pacing his bedroom. After his adventure at the bar, he felt uneasy about leaving his abode for any reason. He had seen the local news and there was nothing on it, but only because it had happened too late to make the broadcast. He'd also tried contacting either Randy, Adam, or Chris on many occasions, but hadn't been able to reach any of them.

"Dammit, this is stupid! Eric, you've got to relax. Get some sleep."

He lay down on his bed, and tried to get some rest. He was just dozing off when he heard his phone ring. He stared at it, debating what to do, but then decided it might be one of the guys calling.

"If this isn't an insanely hot guy calling, I'm hanging up."

"I guess you won't be hanging up, then."

"I guess not, Orton, what do you want? I just went to bed."

"Adam and I just landed. We need to talk to you right away. We'll be at your house in an hour."

CLICK!

Eric mumbled something uninterpretable and rolled out of bed.

"Jack of spades!" Chris squealed

"I should've shuffled those things myself." John groaned. This time the shirt came off and stayed off. They'd only drawn ten cards each, but Cena had already hit five face cards and lost his shoes, socks, and now his shirt. Jericho had only drawn one. "Your turn."

Chris pulled a card out of the middle and looked at it. "Sorry." It was the seven of hearts.

"If I find out you're cheating..."

"If you're gonna be a sore loser, we can stop right now." Jericho said, though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I will win, don't worry." John reached for a card and swore. "Queen of clubs. I've heard of losing your shirt at cards, but this is going a little too far."

He stood and reached for his belt. Chris leaned back and watched through lust-filled eyes. John unfastened, buttoned, and zipped and let them fall to the floor. He sat back on the bed, only wearing a bright red banana-hammock; one that left little to Y2J's imagination.

"One more and I win." Jericho giggled like a schoolgirl at the premiere of "High School Musical".

"There's still time." Cena hoped he'd lose soon because his choice of undergarment was not the best given the fact that he was starting to get hard thinking about what might happen later.

"Doubt it." Jericho had already drawn and he showed Cena his card with a flourish. It was the Ace of diamonds. "Your turn..."

"Do you want to explain this to him, or do I have to do all the talking again?" Randy demanded, standing outside the Hardy residence.

"I don't know." Adam shouted "We'll figure this out when the time comes."

"Well, the time is now." Randy heard footsteps nearing the door. A bleary-eyed Eric stared at them.

"This had better be good. I was just falling asleep when you called." He bade them enter.

"Eric, there's something we have to tell you..."

"Sit." Eric motioned to the couch and disappeared. He returned with a steaming mug of something. Coffee, they guessed.

"If this is as serious as you two seem to think, then I should be awake for it." Eric took a sip of the hot liquid and looked them over. "Well, are you gonna tell me what's up or do I have to guess?"

"Eric, there's something you should know. Actually, we should've told you before we left town..."

"Damn!" Jericho cursed.

"Another one?" Cena guessed

"Now who's the cheater?" Cena's luck had changed. Not only had he not drawn another face card, but Jericho had drawn one on five straight pulls. Both men were down to their underwear and there were still two face cards left in play.

Cena laughed as Chris peeled off his jeans. He wore a pair of Hardy Boyz boxer shorts.

"I can see you're a fan." He laughed

"Stop it before I take you right now! Draw!"

Cena laughed and reached for the cards. His laughing suddenly stopped when he saw what he'd drawn. The smiling face of the King of Clubs looked at him. Dejected, he threw the card down on the bed.

"I win..." Jericho screeched "Take it off!"

"You do it!" Cena leaned back on the bed.

It was one of Chris' deepest fantasies: one he'd used to get off many times. To be this close to Cena's manhood; only separated by one piece of fabric, and one that was gonna be gone in seconds, was what he'd lusted after since the days when Cena's ring attire was much more revealing and much less hip hop-ish.

"What are you talking about?" Eric asked

Randy, with Adam's help, had finally explained everything to him.

"You mean I just killed Chris' brother? Why didn't one of you call me?"

"Our bad. We didn't think you'd take him out so quickly."

"Nor did I." Eric stated, apparently unruffled by the news that not only had he committed murder, but the victim was close to a friend. Or an ex-friend if he ever found out. "Wrong place, wrong time."

"Let's hope he doesn't find out soon..."

"It really doesn't matter to me what happens. He messed with my friend and that's something you just don't do."

Randy smiled. That was the first time Eric had used that particular f-word in reference to him. Things were looking up...

"Police have arrested a suspect in connection with a stabbing at a Boston bar earlier this morning. According to sources near the scene, 21-year-old Michael Irvine was the victim of what police are calling 'a random act' of violence. In custody is 26-year-old Joseph Silvio, also of Boston. Police will not comment on whether this killing had anything to do with the recent deaths of three other gang members..."

Chris slammed the remote on the bed, shutting off the television.

"Problem?" Cena asked, emerging from the bathroom. He'd taken a shower soon after Chris' hands and mouth made short work (or long work) of him. He's lasted less than two minutes before getting off.

"Nothing I can't handle." Y2J forced a smile. "You finished in there?"

"For now. You want to go again?"

"Maybe later." Chris pushed past. Once he'd closed the door and starting running the water on full, he screamed "Eric!" He didn't believe the reporter at all. If this Silvio was involved, it was only because Eric needed a fall guy. That much he knew for sure. What he didn't know was how he was going to deal with Eric.

"You okay, J?" John tapped on the door. He'd heard the shout over the sound of the water running.

"I'm fine." He lied. Calming down was not gonna happen with any certainty and the last thing he wanted to do was do something he'd regret. He only had one option. Get on a flight to Boston and confront Eric. He shut off the water, all thoughts of a shower washed away and stepped back into the room.

"John, I hate to come and go, but I gotta get back to Boston. There's some family troubles." Much as he hated lying a second time, he didn't want to answer a lot of stupid questions.

John nodded, a little saddened that he wouldn't have any more fun.

"Whatever you gotta do. Anything else?"

"I'll call you when I arrive." Not having unpacked yet, Chris grabbed his bags. He was gone in moments.

On his way to the airport, Chris called the office.

"I got an idea. Can you find a way to book Eric Hardy on an episode of The Highlight Reel?"

"We could, but why? He's quit."

"I don't know if the fans believe that or not. I'd like to give him a chance to explain himself."

"I'll talk to Vince and see what he thinks."

"Cool. Tell him I'll see him in Albany Monday." Chris hung up and laughed. "Hardy, that will be a night you'll never.... evah!!!!!!!!!! Forget!"

Eric received the phone call the next day while he was visiting Jeff.

"Hey, Eric, it's Vince..."

"What do you want? I don't..."

"Yes, I know what you said the last time we were together, but I was wondering if you'd reconsider it."

"Thanks, but no. Jeff is more important to me right now." Eric replied

"I understand. Would you at least be willing to come to RAW and say goodbye to the fans... most of them think it was just part of the show." Vince pleaded

Eric hesitated briefly. "What, just come down to the ring and vent again?"

"Something like that." Vince answered

"If you understand that it's not for you, or anyone else, but just for the fans, I'll do it. And no begging, whining, or cajoling me into coming back."

"Agreed. We'll see you Monday." Vince hung up. "Did Chris tell you why he wanted to interview him?"

"No, Vince." Gerald Brisco replied "It just said it was a matter of life and death."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_I was gonna finish up in this chapter, but I figured one climax was enough... but we're in the home stretch now, baby!_


	11. The Highlight Reel

The Highlight Reel

"Welcome all my Jerico-holics to a very special episode of "The Highlight Reel". My guest tonight owes all of you an explanation. Please welcome Eric Hardy!"

"What the fuck is going on?" Eric spit a Pepsi across the hallway, looking suspiciously at anyone and everyone. "I thought I was..."

"Jericho asked for the interview." Brisco responded "You're friends; come on, what the worst that can happen?"

"Honest answer? You don't want to know." Eric stormed through the curtain.

Chris stood in the middle of the ring. He was nervously adjusting his leather pants, hoping his anxiousness wasn't apparent.

"So, Hardy, welcome to the Highlight Reel." Chris stuck a microphone in Eric's face.

"Thanks, Chris, even though I'm not sure why i'm here."

"As I said, you owe us an explanation for what you did last week. Roll the footage."

Eric watched a recap from the previous week's show and even he was shocked. Not by his actions, but by how savage he looked while doing it. Once the clip finished, Chris stuck the mic back in Eric's face.

"Are you waiting for something?" Eric demanded

"I think you owe me, the guys in the back, and these fans..."

Eric suddenly grabbed the mic from Chris' hand with one arm and pushed him aside with the other.

"I don't know what you people think you're entitled to, but that's not why I'm here tonight. I'm here for one reason: closure. What happened last week, while regrettable, was long overdue. I'm not going to apologize for, or even try to, justify my actions to these fans, anyone in the back, or especially you."

"You said you came back for closure. Sounds like you're just making excuses." Chris took back the mic.

"What the hell would you know about it anyway? My husband is still in a coma right now thanks to a group of punks."

"A lot more than you might realize." Chris didn't know the extent of Eric's knowledge and to him just then, it really didn't matter. "I know that you, Adam, and Jeff got involed in a situation that none of you had any right to. If you'd just left it alone, Jeff would be in this ring, competing, and not flat on his back. Although I'm sure that's not an uncommon position for him."

"You bastard!" Eric mouthed, a little confused by Chris' outburst. Was this supposed to happen?

"What the hell were we supposed to do... let Randy get abused any further? That's not my way and you know it!"

"Let's talk about Randy, shall we? Do you know why the Legend Killer was in that position to begin with? For God's sake, the assclown is married! Why is he trying to pick up girls at a bar to begin with?"

"How the hell do you know what happened?" Eric's eyes narrowed into slits.

"I have an intimate connection to your activities. At least I did until you killed him!"

"I don't know with whom you've been talking, but do you honestly think I'm the kind of person who goes around killing people?" Eric understood. He'd been set up. Now he had to some quick thinking and even faster talking. "A guy gets stabbed in a seedy bar and you immediately jump on me. Chris, I thought we were on the same team."

"We were never on the same team." Chris reached into his waistband and pulled out a .357. "My brother is dead and you killed him."

Wide-eyed, Eric tried to conceal the acute terror that started to take hold. "Chris, put that away and we'll discuss this rationally. Maybe I can explain this..."

"You didn't give Mike a chance to explain!" Chris waved the gun around "On your knees!"

"Is this part of the script?" An antsy Vince McMahon asked anyone who would listen.

"I don't think so, Mr. Mac-Mann." In times of stress, Brisco's drawl became more pronounced.

"Get the police on the phone! And get ready to kill the lights!"

"Here."

"This is Vince McMahon. I have a situation..."

Eric knelt in front of Chris, who placed the barrel against his forehead.

"So what happens next? After you're done with me, then what? You gonna go after Adam, and Jeff, and Randy? We didn't cause this!"

"No, Eric. I don't really care about the others or even that Silvio guy you paid to take the fall. You killed my brother and for that, I'm gonna kill you... any last words?"

"Lose those lights, now!" Vince yelled

The arena was suddenly plunged into total blackness. Those near ringside to make out two shapes fighting in the middle of the ring. Then a loud bang, a flash of light, and one of the figures fell to the mat.

When the lights did come back on, Jericho stood alone in the centre of the mat, the still-smoking gun pointed at Eric's prone form. He'd been shot point-blank in the stomach.

"That's what I do to people who take something from me... what!"

With one of his last breaths, Eric motioned for Chris to come closer.

"Jericho... I got two words for ya."

The arena was so deathly silent that Eric didn't need a mic to be heard.

"Let me guess... suck it?"

"I'm sorry..." Eric gasped and died.

Jeff suddenly sat up. "Eric!" he screamed

There came sounds of running outside his door and it flung open.

"What's wrong Jeffro? Have a bad dream?"

"Mm-hm." Jeff cuddled his rabbit tighter, hoping the stuffed animal could chase the nightmare away.

"You know I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know... it was just too scary."

"Want me to make some sketti? Maybe that will make you feel better?"

Jeff nodded, still anxiously looking around the room as if expecting the Boogeyman to jump out from some unknown hiding place.

"You know, Jeff, if you're gonna have nightmares like this, we're not gonna have an all-night Crow marathon ever again."

"Okay..." Jeff sighed

"Just out of curiosity, were you dreaming about Brandon Lee or that new guy?"

"Huh?"

"You screamed 'Eric'!"

"Oh..." Jeff blushed "It's a long dream, Matty."

"Come on, you can tell me about it while I make the sketti."

The Hardy brothers went downstairs to make a very late dinner,

"You know, Jeff, sometimes I wonder about you..." Matt held his still-shaken brother tight.

Over dinner, Jeff relayed his nightmare to his brother, leaving out some of the graphic sex. He had a hard time explaining why he was dreaming about guys doing it with other guys to himself. Trying to do that to Matt was just out of the question.

"...and then Jericho shot him." Jeff finished his story at the same time he finished his pasta.

"Man, little bro, that's quite a dream. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a crush on this Eric guy. You've dreamed about him for the last week."

"Have not!" Jeff pouted

"I'm just down the hall. I've heard you calling out his name more than once." Matt looked curiously across the table.

"Is there more sketti?" Jeff tried to change the subject.

"Well, I declare. I think my little bro is smitten!" Matt smiled

"Matt!"

"Come on, Jeff. There's nothing wrong with it. It's 2009, after all, not the Dark Ages!"

Jeff looked at his plate, not saying anything. Finally, he raised his eyes to his brother and Matt could see the emotion in them.

"Matty, don't tell him... pleeeeeeeease!"

"Have I even broken a promise to you?" Matt replied, gathering the dishes. "Now, hurry up and get ready. We gotta plane to catch."

"Yeah. You're in the main event."

"Yeah, I know. I get your crush in a no holds barred match. I wonder who he slept with to get a title match in his first week."

"It wasn't me!" Jeff protested

"Did I say anything? I swear Jeff, let it go!"

To their surprise, Matt and Jeff ran into Eric at the airport.

"Hey, guys!"

"Hey, Eric." Matt greeted him. Jeff went into spaced mode.

"Ready for our match?"

"If you are."

"I don't know what you've been told, but this is a new thing for me. I'm usually not into street fights."

"Don't worry. I'll walk you through it."

"Cool. Whassup, Jeff? Cat got your tongue?" Eric looked over at Jeff, who'd been too busy drooling over the tall, muscular, hunk.

"Just a lot on his mind." Matt replied, lightly backhanding his brother out of his trance.

"Cool. Same flight?"

"I guess..."

"We can discuss our match then." Eric grabbed his duffel bag.

"Alright."

"Alright. This is gonna be the start of something special... I can feel it!" Eric smiled

If they only knew...

**THE END**

_Well, there you have it, folks... I hope it meets with your approval... I'd like to thank the Academy for.. sorry, wrong speech. If you liked this, let me know and I'll write more featuring Team Extreme... If not, I have some other ideas floating around in the emptiness inside my head._

_I'd also like to thank my brother for the encouragement to continue writing when everything else was falling apart around me! Thanks Joe!_

_And lastly, to all my fans in the Imagi-nation... Live 4 The Moment!_

_Laterz!  
_


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